Cheap and exotic

Cheapie beer doesn't have to mean mass-produced chemical fizz. I'm a sucker for anything that looks interesting in the bargain corner of the supermarket beer shelves.

The first isn't actually from a supermarket, but was only €2.50 for the half-litre can. Gaffel Lemon Radler is from one of Cologne's respectable Kölsch houses -- it's odd to see their sober traditional brand on this Hawaiian shirt of a can. That helpfully informs us it's 40% Kölsch and 60% lemonade, of which 7% is lemon juice. That's enough to give it a real lemon taste: tangy and zingy with minimal syrupy sweetness. A dry tannic quality finishes it off. This is quality stuff. Admittedly there's little sign of the beer underneath the lemonade (it's only 2% ABV) but neither is it a sticky alcopop mess. There doesn't seem to be a grapefruit version yet but here's hoping one is in the pipeline.

A litre of Lithuanian rye beer for a fiver? Thanks SuperValu! Ruginis from Aukštaitijos Bravorai is 5.2% ABV and a pale copper colour, mostly clear with a few light floaters. I'm guessing it's cool-fermented as it has the clean crispness of a lager, albeit a strong one: think bock or Märzen. That effect is accentuated by a weighty malt sweetness: honey, spongecake and brown sugar, with characteristics in common with the farmhouse beers you only get in Lithuania. The finish is dry more than bitter and I don't really see where the rye fits in. There's perhaps a very faint ghost of pepperiness but that's your lot. It's quite autumnal, or even wintery: filling, warming and calorific. I quite liked it, although it's far from the sharp grassy number I was expecting.

We go to Lidl for today's finisher. I had written before about a couple of their Steam Brew series, noting that the intriguing Imperial Stout had escaped me. Well, I finally caught it. It's a bit of a lightweight at just 7.5% ABV, but looks well: a properly pure silken black with a rocky ivory head that says traditional stout to be sure to be sure. And then it smells like a pilsner. What? There's a cool, clean, biscuit-and-grass thing that shows its German roots very clearly. And it tastes of very little. My guess is that it is indeed cool-fermented so should probably be classed more as a Schwarzbier than an imperial stout, but that's OK -- I'm down with Schwarzbier. The only thing is it's not a very good one. You have to work to find the slightest traces of roast while the high gravity has been smoothed away to nothing. Only a faint vegetal tang in the finish suggests stout, but not of the imperial kind. This is highly inoffensive, very easy to drink and was dirt cheap, but it's no kind of introduction to the joys of imperial stout. Even a big lager brewery like Eichbaum could have tried a bit harder here.

Down at the budget end, you win some and you lose some. Perhaps the true reward is the money we saved along the way.

The old reliables

I'm determined not to become one of those beer drinkers who know what they like and like what they know and don't mind telling you about it, repeatedly. This blog has always prided itself on the variety of beer described within, covering everything and anything, because it's always at least interesting (to me). So it's with no small pang of guilt that I find myself passing over a lot of what's on the market at the moment, from UK and US breweries in particular. Endless hazy IPAs in eye-catching cans at eye-watering prices. I try to buy the occasional one but have found myself feeling less and less inclined. None of them come with the promise that this will be good, this will be worth it.

And so, conversely, I am continuously cheered up by new releases from breweries I know and trust. Three more from Odell? Yes please!

First up is a golden ale called Kindling. It's only 5% ABV so maybe the Duvel glass was overkill. It does look similar: a clear gold with a faint misting of floaty bits. The flavour opens on quite an intense sweet fruit vibe: lychees in syrup, tinned peaches and cheap brown apple juice. I get no bitterness to speak of, just a dry waxiness that speaks more of honey than hops. Thankfully the whole thing finishes quickly and crisply, like a lager. This is undemanding summer drinking, and great value at €2.50 a can. There are some interesting complexities to unpick but it's too light to really impress with them. It was one and done for me.

Only a slight bump in strength for the next one, and a step sideways stylewise, for the 5.1% ABV blonde ale Peach Stand Rambler. Surely if it's standing it can't be rambling? Makes no sense. Regardless, it's another clean looker and definitely smells of peaches: fresh and luscious with background notes of honey and lemonade. That made me think it was going to be sticky, but it's not. There's just enough weight to carry the fruit flavour but no more than that. Said flavour is the peaches again, and more the skin than the flesh, with an edge of bitterness to it. There's a fade-out of apple and breadcrust, rendering it extra refreshing. This is a lovely example of doing fruit-infused beer in a clean and understated way that doesn't gum up the palate with syrup or jangle the nerves with sugar. Just the sort of quality I come to Odell for.

Something a bit more exciting to conclude, then. Solarized is a yuzu double IPA, the first I've found, I believe. It's an opaque deep yellow colour and smells pleasingly juicy, of both real citrus fruits and fresh hops on a New England setting. The flavour dovetails perfectly with this: creamy, sweet and tangy tropical fruit with a delicate lacing of bitterness on the finish. A big fluffy texture comes with that, and there's a soft warmth too, entirely befitting the 8.2% ABV. It's a gentle and friendly sort of double IPA, showing lots of complexity but accessible at the same time.

Absolutely no regrets, then, about choosing these over spendier beers where I'm less certain of the quality. As long as they still have new wares for me to try I remain a very happy Odell customer.

Who do you brew?

Today it's a big bunch of beers from the busy beavers of Bluebell, churning out cans for all-comers, it seems.

The parade of cuckoos begins with Otterbank, and the second iteration of Mates Rates tart session IPA, this time with Citra. The hop is very distinctive, that lime-rind kick is prevalent in both the aroma and foretaste. It's still subtle though, and isn't allowed take over completely. There's an unexpected lemonade sweetness in the taste: fresh and zesty, matching well with a cleansing fizz. The finish is quite quick, and I thought that even at only 4.9% ABV there should be more going on in this. It's a little one-dimensional, though: unchallenging and built for the session.

Said session continues with Mates Rates Mosaic. There's an unsettling dry and savoury aroma here: caraway seed and rye cracker. I don't like when Mosaic does this. Thankfully there's very little sign of that in the flavour. This is another quite subtle one with a mild stonefruit taste next to the minimalist tartness. I had hoped for more of the juiciness you get when Mosaic is on song. These Mates Rates could do with a bit of a hop boost if they're going to make the varieties a central feature. With Citra you can get away with being economical but that won't work for everything.

From TwoSides next, Hazy On A Sunny Afternoon required specific conditions to be in place before opening. This is a light pale ale of 4.3% ABV and, with the sun behind it, it is indeed a sunny shade of hazy yellow. The fluff gives it plenty of texture; no danger of thinness here. I was expecting lots of tropical fruit but it goes for the bittering first, a kick of grapefruit and lemon peel in the opener, presaged by the same in the aroma, with a slight savoury edge as well. Just when it seems like that's going to be the whole picture, there's a gently juicy layer of mango and cantaloupe in the aftertaste. This is nothing fancy; it's designed to be refreshing and drinkable, and it delivers exactly that. The decision to go bitter was the correct one.

Beer name of the year so far is another TwoSides job: Now That's What I Call Mosaic. It's a 6% ABV IPA, pale and slightly hazy, and quite a chore to pour, with an inconvenient amount of head forming. Eventually I got it under control and it's rather decent. Not the tropical explosion I was hoping for, but neither the caraway disaster of Mosaic-gone-wrong. It's broadly sweet but dry too, like a refreshing cup of lemon tea. The alcohol gives it lovely rounded mouthfeel, though it's also squeaky clean and quite sinkable. There's a bit of a pale English bitter feel, which is no bad thing -- it certainly feels like one of those more than anything American. Maybe, given the name, a bit more hop welly would be good, but it's decent stuff on its own merit; no complaints here.

More branding genius comes from Fat Walrus next. I love the artwork on Amuse the Muse, taking its inspiration from "muse" being the origin of the word "mosaic", and that once again being the hop in focus here. It's 5.4% ABV and a translucent orange colour. The Mosaic is impeccably behaved, a deliciously juicy peach and mango opener leads on to a refreshing tea-like dryness. It's quaffable but also with just the right amount of substance to be satisfying too, a low level of carbonation engendering happy thoughts of the pub. A bang-up job by the portly pinniped.

Crafty Bear writes a big cheque with the name of its chocolate milk stout Full Stout Ahead. It walks the walk at 7.5% ABV with a big and creamy texture. The carbonation is down to a gentle sparkle, giving it a nitro-like smoothness. So far so good. The flavour is also full, but I found it pulling in different directions. On the one hand you have the milky milk chocolate sweetness which also features in the aroma and is fully appropriate to this sort of thing. However, it's also hella bitter: that sharp and tarry vegetal thing which, for me, is usually the hallmark of a serious, grown-up and delicious stout, but it doesn't work in this one, clashing dramatically with the other side. The end result is rather acrid and difficult. There are some lovely elements here, but together? Sorry, no.

I do get a slight impression that Third Barrel saves the big hop doses for its own beers, though if you're looking for something hazy and sessionable brewed for you, it's definitely the place to go.

Own-label

It's another selection of beers from the three-headed beast of Bluebell, still churning them out like there's no tomorrow. Maybe they know something we don't.

Last month, Third Circle gave us Catching Sunshine, landing on a suitably warm and bright day in early June. They describe it as a "New World Pale [Ale]", hopped with BRU-1 and Mosaic. Alas, it's the wrong Mosaic. This looks like a witbier -- hazy and yellow -- and it tastes like a wheat beer too. That dry, husky savoury quality that Mosaic sometimes imparts in lieu of soft tropical fruit is the centrepiece of the flavour here. Coupled with the big fuzzy texture you get something that closely resembles an American wheat ale. The can says it's slammable, but it's too dry for that, almost to the point of acridity. Only as I finished the glass did I find a tiny dankness lurking in the dregs, but literally too little and too late. For something claiming to be double dry hopped it just doesn't bring the hop party. I demand a hop party.

A 3.1% ABV mite comes to the rescue: It's the Little Things, a micro IPA, also double dry-hopped, this time with Vic Secret and Citra. It's a lively chap, foaming up busily with a giant quiff of foam at the end of the pour. The strength is a smidge high for the micro badge but it's put to good use: that plus oats in the grist mean there's plenty of body, completely avoiding the telltale thinness these often show. And that gives the hops more space to play. There's a serious oily funky dankness in both aroma and flavour, livened up with sharper lime zest and damp grass. There's an impressive malt backbone underpinning this, giving it a balancing fruit-candy sweet side. Very impressive, all-in-all, both for what it is, and as an IPA of any kind.

I wasn't going to get any hop party from a cherry and coconut imperial milk stout and Third Barrel's This Is An Outrage! is one such: 9% ABV and a very dark red colour. Amazingly the cherry trumps the coconut in the aroma, smelling quite hot and spirituous. Coconut catches up in the flavour, though the cherry is still plenty loud, the two joined by their affinity for chocolate, of which there is also plenty. A surprise roasted bitterness finishes it off after all the sticky sweetshop silliness has ended. This is an unashamed novelty beer and it was a brave move to put these flavours together but it absolutely works. 

We get back on a hop kick with Nelson from Stone Barrel, although it is an India Pale Lager which too often means the hops don't get a fair say in the taste. Enough prejudice. This is 4.7% ABV and looks deliciously clear. The aroma gives us that mineral kerosene punch of concentrated Nelson Sauvin hops, and I'm on board for that. The flavour is much softer but still pure Nelson. White grape is a typical characteristic and here it's bitter like the skin. That settles into a juicy but still tart gooseberry and cranberry effect. It doesn't have the sudden curtain-down quick finish of a lager and I don't miss it. The hops are oily enough and the malt body big enough to let it sit on the palate a while and smoulder. In regard to a previous release, Third Barrel's Mr Blue Sky, I said that Nelson Sauvin enthusiasts in particular would like it. That goes double for this guy. It's fun, characterful and absolutely worthy of that swaggering mononym.

Beer five is under the Third Barrel brand itself, Random Act of Hopiness [sic], brewed for Martin's Off Licence. While only 5% ABV it claims to be "triple dry hopped", getting separate charges of Citra, Galaxy and Citra again. It's a pale and hazy orange, and with unusually excellent head retention for this sort of thing. There's a concentrated orange cordial aroma, Galaxy getting the better of the two Citras, I reckon. That turns to a fun chocolate-orange oily sweet thing on tasting, with a tangy lime boiled-sweet effect in the background. It's very unusual, but completely successful. I was half expecting another humdrum hazy job and was very pleasantly surprised to discover it's not one. There is a slightly savoury white onion kick which I didn't care for, but that's easily ignored. The modest strength makes it light and quaffable, and on a sunny day it wasn't long disappearing.

The big guns are unleashed first with Why Always Me?, an IPA hopped with Simcoe. It's double dry hopped, which of course somehow means hazy, and smells super dank and resinous in that signature Simcoe way. 7.2% ABV gives it plenty of body, and it's only slightly full of New England fluff. Vanilla and orange juice flash briefly in the foretaste before it returns to the serious business of crisp cabbage leaf, black pepper oils and high-octane marijuana. It's a lovely example of how to bring east coast sensibilities to grown-up IPA hopping, or how to sneak proper bitterness into the haze-drinker's diet. This beer has plenty of great stuff for both sides of the divide. Cast aside your preconceptions, dive in and enjoy.

The final flourish for now is And We Have Lift Off, an 8% ABV whopper from Stone Barrel, with Mosaic, Enigma and El Dorado. That'll be fruity, I thought, but it's hot and dank in the aroma; heady and sharp. There's an early bitterness on tasting, followed by savoury raw onion and sesame paste: not my sort of thing really. I drank it cold which gave the flavours a clean distinctness which didn't endear it to me further. Only in the aftertaste do you get a light buzz of soft tropical fruit which was too little and too late for me. Even though it hides the alcohol well, in the flavour at least, I found this tough going. The hop combination, and in particular Mosaic being all dry and naughty, wasn't for me. Lift Off is immediately followed by a near miss.

This post was originally meant to include a selection of third-party beers also brewed at Third Barrel but it ended up far too long. So tomorrow you get a special bonus Tuesday post. Lucky you.

Four for ten

Metalman Brewing is ten! They've celebrated in the appropriate way with a rake of new beers including the official commemorative one and three with swanky new rebranding.

The latter set, grandly dubbed the Galactic Voyager Series, began with New England IPA Giant Molecular Clouds, and a big thanks to the brewery for shipping me some freebie tinnies of this. I think it's their first venture into the World of Haze that acquired beer in a hostile takeover a few years ago. Despite the unorthodox 33cl can, this does look like a proper NEIPA: pale yellow and opaque, with a rocky topping of white froth. The aroma leans in to the veg side of things: garlic oil and dry asparagus. I thought some vanilla fluff would help balance that in the flavour but it turned out very dry, with a gritty, chalky taste and feel that dominates the whole experience. The hops play second fiddle to this, and it's mainly garlic and asparagus again. Amarillo, Azacca and Hüll Melon are among the fruitiest hops out there, so I'm astounded that in combination they're not bringing juice to this beer. It's not unpleasant, and I can't fault it technically, it's just one of those New England-style jobs that doesn't offer what I like about them.

Several weeks later, the second one appeared: Cosmic Horseshoe. The description is a sparse six letters -- "DDH IPA" -- and the hops are Cascade, Citra, Comet and Mandarina Bavaria. Opaque again, though this time a deep shade of orange. There's a pleasant hop spice in the aroma, as well as the promise of citrus to come. The texture is thick, entirely in keeping with the sizeable 6.6% ABV. Layered onto that are quite a few classic C-hop traits. I get lots of tongue-coating oily resins, the lime peel suggested by the aroma, a softer orange-cordial side (presumably the Mandarina), and a zesty, spritzy finish. All is cleanly presented and, surprisingly, doesn't linger long on the palate. It's a satisfying sipper, a little old-fashioned perhaps, but entirely in line with the ongoing west coast revival.

Completing the first wave of Galactic Voyagers is Gravitational Wave. This one is actually badged as a west coast IPA, but in keeping with modern fashion, it's hazy; downright opaque, in fact. The aroma too is sweet and juicy, and the texture soft, making me wonder if it's a straight mislabelling. There's a little bit of pull back in the flavour, but only a little. There's a dry side to it, partly citrus peel but partly New England chalkiness too. Chinook, Citra and Simcoe give it lots of classical grapefruit and lime with a scattering of black peppercorns, though any sharp edges are rounded and softened by the fuzz. It's a perfectly good beer, though I'm bemused that the "DDH" one before it did a better job of channelling the west coast vibes.

Finally we come to the official anniversary beer: Decade. They've badged it as a "tart cherry coffee porter" which sounds like one of those descriptions brewers come up with after the beer is finished and in need of labelling. It's dark brown and smells like a porter first and foremost, with the roasty aroma taking a moment to add in the deeper oily richness of real coffee beans. And so to the taste. It's still a porter, light-bodied for 5.2% ABV and with a dry kind of roast, grain rather than coffee-driven I would say. I'm not sure I would have identified the cherries had I not been told about them, but there's definitely something else there. A mild sourness in the finish helps clean it off the palate leaving no aftertaste though I couldn't really pick out the fruit. This is a bit of an odd fish, overall, but enjoyable. The recipe was a gamble but I think it's paid off. Much as I like a straight-up porter I can't criticise anyone for mucking about with one if it turns out this interesting.

Thanks again to Metalman for the freebies and here's to ten more years.

Midnight sunny

I'm sure they value their summers in Iceland at least as much as we do down here. Three season-appropriate beers from Einstök arrived recently, all new to Ireland.

Arctic Lager looks like a straightforward 4.7% ABV pale job but the can tells us it's dry-hopped with Citra, which should add something beyond the norm. The aroma certainly shows a pale-ale level of fruitiness, gentle rather than sharp though, with peach and lychee. A proper Citra bitterness punches through in the foretaste: lemon rind plus a certain tannic astringency. It doesn't let go of the stonefruit, however, and that lingers in the background. What's missing is the lager side. As often happens when new-world hops are involved, the crispness disappears and the drinker loses the benefit of it being a lager. Still, it's decent and flavourful, packing a lot into a modest package. I have little to complain about here.

That's an implied summer seasonal; the next one is explicit. The viking on the can is wearing sunglasses! Arctic Berry Ale is described as a "white ale brewed with bilberries", or "blueberry witbier" as one might call it more economically. I though the berries would give it a blue tint but it poured quite a plain deep yellow colour. Mind you, the aroma is packed with blueberries: sweet and tart, to the point of smelling concentrated and jammy. That sweet, slightly artificial, candy perfume effect forms the backbone of the flavour. I feel there ought to be some wheaty softness to base it on but it's surprisingly thin for 5% ABV. The underlying beer doesn't really feature as flavour or texture. It's fun and refreshingly summery, though at the same time it's a bit of a one-dimensional novelty. One could even validly level the accusation of tasting like an alcopop at it. Stolidly nordic it ain't.

Things get weirder with the final one: Lime & Juniper Pils. Our viking is wearing a bowler hat (as historically accurate as his horned helmet, in fairness) which suggests they're going for a gin-and-tonic vibe here. Instead it ends up closer to Desperados. The juniper doesn't get much of a look-in, maybe a faint perfume in the finish, and neither really does the pils: no crispness, no fresh grass. End-to-end it's sticky lime cordial. A thick biscuity base accentuates the sweetness and is what makes this a different proposition to the clean and dry Rascals lime lager from earlier this summer. While only 4.8% ABV it feels much heavier, a lot more like an ale than a lager. This doubles down on the problems found in the Arctic Lager above.

Given that Einstök's beers are produced in a big factory which mostly churns out lager, it's strange that they don't seem to have got it right. Their reliable and unfussy porter remains the best thing they make, and possibly also the cleanest and most lager-like. Go figure.

The lupulin crowd

Time for another round-up of all that's new and hop-laden from Irish brewers.

Larkin's is first, and a new addition to the Curious Society range, simply titled Citra. This is a pale ale of 4.5% ABV and for a brewer that favours haze is surprisingly clear: a happy light golden with just a dusting of murk. The aroma is fabulously juicy, more mandarin and jaffa than Citra's normal lemon and lime. The texture is light, to the point where one could maybe accuse it of being thin, but at the same time this is built as a session beer and it does that. One man's watery is another man's quaffable. The flavour continues the juicy orange theme, with no more than a token bitterness. A slight savoury edge in the finish is the only bum note in what's otherwise one of those beers that's very easy drinking but also complex enough to remain interesting.

It's a brave step to put a double IPA in the accessible/budget Curious Society line, and they've taken it with Hoppy Creatures, 8% ABV and a modest €3.25. There are big claims on the can: seven malts topped with El Dorado, Mosaic and Simcoe hops in "generous" quantities. It's dense, being an opaque deep orange colour with a thick syrupy mouthfeel; claggy like 8% and more. The aroma is boozy to match that, with an almost-literal buzz of jet fuel alongside marmalade shred and tahini. That blends together a little better on tasting, with the dry savoury side getting out of the way early to leave cordial, orange candy and garlic oil. It's still quite severe, though, leaning a little too much on the hot and sweet side and lacking nuance. But for the price? You get more than your money's worth, and you know you've had a drink when you're finished. While it's far from my favourite of the Curious Societies, I think it's a good fit for the brand.

Under their main label they've released Drench which is much more Larkin's-typical. It's an opaque IPA of 7% ABV, hopped with Strata, El Dorado and Idaho 7. That struck me as a very fruity combination, and sure enough there's an enticing aroma of concentrated mango and passionfruit. The flavour holds on to that but puts it next to a surprise savoury garlic side, plus some menthol and eucalyptus herbal oiliness. That sounds like a bit of a mess but it works really well. Each element is enjoyable by itself -- cleanly and precisely separated in the profile. There's no soupiness, no excess heat and no dreggy muck. The texture, too, is nicely poised: full and creamy but still approachable. This is a very well turned out beer, overall. You get something calm and balanced with lots going on.

It would be weird to be dealing in hop-forward beers and not have O Brother involved. Here's Pixel Perfect, a pale ale, single hopped with Citra and extremely hazy. The aroma is a bit of a meringue pie: zesty lemon with a sweeter vanilla-like base. The texture is smooth and creamy, which complements that sweet side rather well. What keeps it from turning cloying is a surprisingly bitter middle, with the zest turning to rind and I think there may be some contribution from the murky dregs as well. Clean and hazy does exist, but this isn't quite it. The bitterness fades in its turn and the creamy lemony custard forms the finish. I'm especially impressed by how all this is accomplished at only 5.4% ABV. You need to be in the mood for sweet 'n' hazy, but you'll have a good time when you are.

They've also done that thing that haze pedlars do and put out a beer -- Bolted -- badged unequivocally as a west coast IPA but also quite cloudy. Instant fail, do not pass Vermont, do not collect $200. This is at least properly pale, looking like a batch of Sculpin gone wrong. There's an inappropriate amount of sweet fruit in the aroma though it does also smell delicious; fruitier than I'd have thought for Simcoe, Comet and Columbus hops. "Sculpin gone wrong" turns out to be quite a good description, on tasting. It has that beer's harsh and acrid chalky, pithy, dry acidity; an unpleasant burn of grapefruit juice with added quicklime. While shocking at first, in a possibly interesting way, it doesn't improve once you're used to it, tasting rough and unfinished as hazy beers too often do. Ramping up the bittering hops on a New England IPA will not make it west coast. There may well be a fan base out there for the combination of flavours happening in here, but it's not me.

It's nice to be able to include a black IPA in these round-ups, and O Brother brings the goods this time with one called Eyeconic. On paper it looks like a bold one: 6.5% ABV and hopped with Sabro and Mosaic, and indeed it pours thickly, a muddy dark brown. That translated to a smooth, almost creamy, mouthfeel. It's no stout though: Sabro's pithiness comes out in the aroma alongside some tarry roast, while the flavour is big on citric bitterness, particularly in the finish. Ahead of that you get a brush of Mosaic's juicy tropical fruit and surprisingly little roast to interfere with that. Overall it does a great job of tasting like a pale IPA ("Well that's unexpected; it's all fruity" -- my wife, tasting it blind) though I think there's room for more and bigger hops. It's still highly enjoyable, though.

Two of the big hits from last summer were a pair of IPAs by Black's of Kinsale called Ace of Haze. For 2021 they've brought it back in a new edition: Ace of Haze: Battle of the Tropics. They've raised the ABV a little, up to 5.5% from the previous 4.2%. The subtitle comes from its use of Azacca and Mosaic hops, both famed for their tropical fruit characteristics. Let's see how that worked out. The aroma, more cordial than real fruit, is barely-there, suggesting that the double dry-hopping has not achieved the desired effect. I get a slightly phenolic twang at the front of the flavour which further suggests things aren't quite right in here. There's no more than a quick burst of orange and vanilla ice pop before it fades, leaving a very untropical hard yeasty bitterness. This is a rare misstep from Black's. Even if I'm miscalling the phenol thing, the hopping really isn't up to the standard of last year's Aces. That's just the way they fall sometimes.

Lough Gill is next, and Sink or Swim. This is badged as a west coast IPA and no creative liberties have been taken with the style: a properly American 7.2% ABV and a perfectly clear shade of pale amber. With the on-form visuals comes a parade of C-hops: Cascade, Columbus and Centennial, joined by newbie Idaho 7. Grapefruit? Boy howdy. That starts in the aroma and proceeds to a properly clean and dry flavour with lots of hard zesty citrus bitterness. "West coast" allows for a degree of crystal malt sweetness but this doesn't bother with any of that, letting the hops do all the work. It still manages to be perfectly balanced without any excess heat despite the high strength. I love that Irish brewing has got to a stage where an operation in Sligo can casually toss out a perfect recreation of Ballast Point Sculpin and nobody makes a fuss. And I'm not one for making a fuss but this beer deserves recognition. Well played, Lough Gill.

Hitherto, The White Hag has released its Union Series in pairs, so I felt a bit sorry for Lotus SMASH IPA, when it appeared all on its lonesome. It looks to have taken a turn to the west coast too, seeming darker and clearer than the previous examples. OK then. The aroma is sweet in a sweetshop sweets way: fruit chews and hard candy. That becomes a fizzy sherbet spice on tasting, with a dollop of thick orange cordial, pursued by a dry bitterness: grapefruit rind and cabbage leaf. It's an odd combination, and quite a journey for a single hopper. But it works. The flavours aren't extreme, so while it's sweet it remains easy drinking throughout. While it may not be much of an advertisement for Lotus hops it's a perfectly decent 5.5% ABV IPA.

The second half of the pair arrived eventually a couple of weeks later: El Dorado SMASH IPA, looking much more typically pale and hazy for the Union series. The zesty aroma is off the charts. I tend to think of El Dorado as a sort of artificial orange candy thing, but this smells like digging your thumbs into the skin of a ripe tangerine. The effect unravels a little on tasting. The tangy citrus is still there but it doesn't get the flavour to itself. There's a sweeter pineapple side, but also a herbal or grasslike bitterness. Once again, The White Hag has managed to make a single hop beer with a complexity far above its station. This is clean, fresh and summery with plenty to interest the casual drinker and hop nerd alike.

The brewery's other current series is the Spree beers, lactose-laden comical efforts to make beer taste like something other than beer. This time it's the Irish ice lolly favourite the Super Split. This is 5.6% ABV and the ingredients include maize, orange, orange essence and vanilla. And barley and hops, believe it or not. It smells eye-wateringly sweet, more like honeycomb ice cream than vanilla, with no sign of the promised citrus. On tasting it's not as problematic as I feared. There's still very little sign of the orange -- no more than a flash of cordial in the foretaste -- but the texture is relatively light and the vanilla flavour doesn't cloy on the palate. If the idea of an ice cream pale ale doesn't appeal then go ahead and avoid this, but if you're curious you may find it surprisingly rewarding.

Continuing the beer-as-comedy theme, here's Rascals, in cahoots with Hopfully, bringing us Siamese Dream, a 4.5% ABV pale ale with added coconut, pink guava and lime. It's an opaque ochre shade and smells like sun lotion. I expected a sweet mess but was turned around on the flavour. It's light-textured and pleasingly crisp, the silly additions contributing only to the flavour, not the mouthfeel. The lime is strongest, with the coconut's oil adding a surprisingly subtle complexity. I can't say I could identify anything that was specifically hops, but I'm sure they're in there and it's not like it's lacking in citrus character anyway. Overall, this is a bit daft but not stupid, and doesn't carry the joke too far. Approach it in the right frame of mind and you will enjoy.

And just under the wire for this post's deadline: 777 an IPA to mark seven years since we all crammed into the old Rathmines fire station for some reason. Seven years, Idaho 7 hops and 7% ABV is the reasoning behind the name. While hazy as claimed on the label, it's not terribly murky as these things go -- a medium translucent orange colour, with proper head retention and all. It smells of fresh lemon zest and is decently bitter to taste. While there's a certain softness to the texture this is definitely not the full New England thing, and I think that's in its favour. What you get instead is a clean and zingy new-world IPA, more about the pith and peel than the juice. Over seven years in business Rascals has never shied away from the silly side of recipe formulation (see above) but this one shows they also have the chops to do straight and serious as well.

Thirteen very different beers here, and something for all tastes. Should I be concerned that the black one and the sharp west-coaster were my favourites? Did IPA really achieve perfection some time around 2012?

Stretching it

Although very much a modern, playful, creative brewery, Heaney Farmhouse built its reputation, for me at least, as a producer of solidly formulated traditional styles in plain-packaged half-litre bottles with names which tell you exactly what they are. Those still exist but I'm sensing a little bit of a shift with some recent output. The minimalist style-as-name thing is still here, as is the minimalist packaging, but the styles are a smidge more adventurous. Maybe this is the midway stepping stone between the nonthreatening bottles and the cans of ginger-infused imperial pastry stout.

Exhibit A: Irish White Ale. Exotic for the mainstream drinker in Bellaghy, perhaps, but not exactly krazy kraft either. The ABV is a little on the low side at 4.8%, and it poured clear in the glass, presumably a result of being allowed settle in my fridge for a few months. The aroma is herbal and spicy, the orange peel, coriander and Belgian yeast combining to generate a loud and complex mix. Those two added ingredients divide the flavour between them: it's half a leafy savoury Thai rice dish and half a bitter citrus tang. Unsubtle, but I like the boldness. It falls down a little on texture, missing as it does the soft mouthfeel that wheat ought to provide. Overall, though, it's enjoyable. If you like witbier flavours and don't mind having them pushed at you hard, you'll appreciate how they've done this one.

The next one isn't really a proper beer style at all. Double Pale Ale? What? The can says it's 5% ABV and hazy, OK, but in the glass it's weird brownish pink colour. It doesn't look healthy. There's nothing wrong with the aroma, however, smelling bright and zingy like sherbet lemon candy. The texture is very thin, and maybe that's why they shied away from calling it an IPA; there's certainly none of the fluffy weight that normally comes with haze. There's something a bit off about the flavour too. It's mostly fine, bordering on tasty, with vitamin-C-tablet zest meeting a summery apricot and strawberry vibe. But lurking in the finish there's what starts as a chalky dry quality that turns quickly to cardboard. I think this might be oxidised. It's not what I was expecting -- I suppose the name hints at C-hop classics like Sierra Nevada Torpedo -- but I can appreciate what they've tried to do here, making something hop-forward yet accessible and low on bitterness. The execution isn't quite on the money, however.

Finally and inevitably: New England IPA. Heaney's is 5.7% ABV and the orange colour produced by breweries whose hearts aren't really in the hazy stuff but feel they have to. There's a pithy sharpness to the aroma, grapefruit and plaster dust -- not very New Englandy. The texture is somewhat soft without going full pillow, while the sweetness is more orangeade than orange juice, retaining its pointy side and bolting the fruit sweetness on, rather than integrating it. I found myself judging it on trueness to style before realising that's a daft thing to do and switching to the correct track of whether it's any good or not. And it is. There's a fun interplay between sweet, bitter, dry and savoury characteristics, with no unpleasantness. The strength and texture make it satisfyingly weighty without pushing it, or oneself, overboard. Style shmyle: this is just good beer.

And isn't that Heaney's strength, by and large? Simply good beer and no messing, even when they're messing.

Barrowside trilogy

Carlow Brewing has undertaken a bit of a refresh regarding its range and branding. I'm not sure where it's going and which if any of the existing beers are about to vanish, but I do know we now have Leann Folláin in 440ml cans and three new IPAs.

The first is very much a trend-chaser, though not a trend that Irish microbrewers have made much of: the slimmers' beer, for want of a better term. O'Hara's Lo-Cal Session IPA comes in 330ml cans, normally to be found in four-packs for €10. The can doesn't tell me how many calories are in it, which strikes me as an unusual move, though I can say it's 4% ABV. In the glass it's a pale lemon-yellow with a little haze and a freshly sharp and citric aroma. I'm getting vibes of modern northern English bitter, like Marble's Pint. There's a soft texture and an abundance of body so, like a good bitter, it doesn't taste compromised by the strength. The flavour has plenty of legs too: lemon candy, fresh spinach, oily pine and even some naughty dank resins on the finish. This is very jolly indeed and entirely suited to the four-pack format. Don't let the diet-oriented handle fool you: it's the whole package for a session IPA.

I'm not sure in which order to take the other pair. Normally I'd drink in ascending order of ABV, but the weaker here is badged as a West Coast IPA so I'm going to begin on the hefty 6.8% ABV Hazy IPA. With 51st State back in 2017, Carlow was among the first Irish breweries to present a commercial beer in the New England fashion, and they still haven't got the colour right. While most everyone else has the knack of yellow emulsions, this one is amber, and translucent rather than opaque. The label doesn't lie, though: "Juicy - Tropical - Stone Fruit" it promises and all three elements are right there in the aroma, a concentrated mix of passionfruit, guava and mango. There's a brief stumble in the foretaste where it turns savoury, opening on a dry rasp of caraway seed. Luckily the soothing tropical fruit is there behind it, here joined by a slightly citrus edge of tangerine, and a heaping helping of gullet-warming alcohol. Anyone coming to this expecting a hazy IPA like what the cool breweries make, and charge seven quid for, is in for a let-down everywhere but their wallet (this was €3). On its own terms, though, it's fine and actually rather enjoyable. Especially when that booze kicks in.

West Coast IPA should be much more in the wheelhouse of this mid-'90s veteran. It's the same sunset colour, though completely transparent, of course. The aroma was reticent, but there's pine and dank deep in there, so it gets a pass. On tasting it's surprisingly -- disturbingly -- similar to the Hazy one: the same savoury kick and boozy burn. The fruit is missing, of course, but the texture is still quite big and a little syrupy. There's none of the clean dryness I like in this style, and it's missing the fresh hop zing too, tasting rather sluggish and sweaty. Again it's OK, but it needs either a lighter body or much more generous hopping, I think. Full points for not being hazy, I guess, but as a West Coast IPA it leaves me wanting.

Who would have thought that the low-calorie offering would be the stand-out, but here it is. Dirty great pints probably aren't part of the plan, given the branding, but I would very happily indulge in some in due course.

Urban sprawl

Florida brewer Cigar City provides the beers today, and a lot of them at that, across a happily diverse range of styles.

On the lighter end, we have Paloma Gose at 4.2% ABV. This differs from the classic Leipzig recipe by dropping the coriander and, in line with modern craft takes, adding fruit -- grapefruit and lime in this case. It's a hazy orange shade in the glass, with not even a suggestion of a head on pouring. The aroma is very soft-drink-like, a Liltish citrus-meets-sugar effect. You get the soft and briny texture of a real gose, and a salt dryness that helps offset the sodapop sweetness, though only a little. This is very Lilt-tasting, leaning towards syrupy in the foretaste before a super quick finish. Of course it's meant to be thirst-quenching, and it is, but as with sugary soft drinks, the days when I could neck a few in sequence are long gone. I appreciated the childhood charm of this one but I couldn't make a habit of drinking it.

There's more fruit and more salt in Citrus Siesta, though the brewery is calling this one a golden ale. It's not golden, more a coppery amber colour, and still modest in strength at 4.5% ABV. Outdoor summer drinking is still the use-case, I guess. It smells nicely fresh and zesty, with the orange coming through strongest. Perhaps the lime would show itself on tasting. It does, but only a little: it's that concentrated, almost herbal lime-peel effect, and then merely an echo of it. The rest is very plain: a little orange cordial in the finish, but no flavour contribution from the salt, malt or hops. The texture is quite nice -- it's big-bodied and satisfying to quaff, with a honeyish feel even if the flavour isn't there. That wasn't enough to endear it to me, however. When you insist on using novelty ingredients they need to make themselves felt more than they do here.

Invasion is called a "tropical pale ale" but this one doesn't have any daft ingredients, unless you count Motueka, Galaxy, Simcoe, Pacifica and Amarillo, all of whom sound perfectly reasonable to me. A hazy orange in the glass, it smells funky and dank, with heady aromas of sandalwood and incense. The flavour is sweeter. That spicy wood thing is still there, but it's joined by a hard grapefruit bitterness and a lighter fruit zest set on a honey and biscuit malt base. That sounds busy but the texture is light so it gets away with all of it without becoming difficult. It's possible to enjoy this on the Sierra Nevada level as a tasty resinous bitter American pale ale, but it has a fun extra dimension as well that I really enjoyed.

The sole dark beer in today's set is Cubano-Style Espresso, and although it's a brown ale it's very dark indeed, almost but not quite black. The lack of a head wouldn't qualify it for porter or stout status and the rich coffee aroma certainly says it's a brown ale. It looks thin but it's not, thanks to the inclusion of lactose which, in conjunction with cacao and vanilla, gives it a milk chocolate foretaste on a creamy mouthfeel. That's nicely balanced by the coffee, which is strong and heavily roasted, bringing a grown-up bitterness to an otherwise candyshopped beer. The seesaw of sticky sweet chocolate and clean dry coffee is rather enjoyable. This is another beer with an understated complexity. It's only 5.5% ABV but is deliciously full and warming. One to come back to in winter, perhaps.

The upper echelons start with Tocobaga, a 7.2% ABV red IPA. It's not my favourite beer style and it looks downright ugly in the glass: a swampy red-brown with some disturbingly big floaty bits suspended through it. The aroma is much more attractive: Citra bringing a fresh and zesty kick, backed by a little toffee sweetness. Dirty look vs clean aroma: who wins? The look, unfortunately. There's an immediate grittiness on the first sip, accompanied by a dreggy yeast bite. The hops are in rapid pursuit, however, bringing an astringent lime-rind bitterness, with a fun twist of pink peppercorn. It goes a little grassy towards the end, suggesting dry hopping that's gone on too long, and that's joined by a tannic rasp indicating that the mash too was not quite right. After the poise of the previous beers, it's weird that this one is so rough and amateurish. It's not unpleasant: big hops and big malt mean a good time is had, but at the same time it's strangely blurry round the edges which I would not have expected from a tight ship like Cigar City. Moving on...

Space Pope is our finisher: always good to see a Futurama reference in a beer name. It's the same strength as the last one but looks much happier: a bright amber gold. Our hops are Mosaic, Citra, Galaxy and CTZ, which hop-doctor Google tells me is a blend of Columbus, Tomahawk and Zeus. All of that gives us a very pleasant mix of the fruity and the bitter. Both aroma and flavour have the classic pithy grapefruit kick we all come to American IPA for, but with a lighter side of tangerine and mango, all of it sprinkled with resinous weedy fairy dust. It's very obvious that this has been assembled in the same house as Jai Alai, in that it offers a very similar approachable punchiness. It's an excellent expression of the classic American IPA style, or "west coast" as we're now obliged to describe it, even though that's very much not where it's from.

They're a decent bunch, in general, with just one out-of-character misstep among the six. As usual I'll give a particular endorsement to the darkest one and request more along those lines in the next shipment from Tampa.