Slow start

In my last pale ale round-up in mid-November I noted that the release rate had slowed down significantly. Even then I wasn't quite prepared for the effective cessation of new beers from Irish breweries in January. What follows, then, are a handful I acquired, mostly, at the end of 2021. 

To begin, we pick up another from the revived Post Card brand, now brewed at Farrington's in Kildare. The Spire is relatively close to the original version which I drank, and didn't particularly enjoy, back in 2015. It's still an IPA and the ABV has climbed slightly to 5.4% from 5.2%. It has a lot in common with its stablemates, being slightly hazy in the glass and rather lacking in carbonation. For whatever reason, possibly just my mood, I found that less of a problem this time round, enjoying the gentle cask-like sparkle and finding it quite sufficient. There's some lovely tropical fruit in the aroma, making me expect something sweet and soft, but the citrus gets in first: a pithy bite that pinches the palate playfully at first, before growing into a more acute and lasting bitterness. There are notes of orange peel and hard candy hidden within that, but mostly it's all about that west-coast kick of pine and wax, plus a bonus naughty dankness. As long as you like them punchy, this is quality stuff.

It's great to be able to include a black IPA in one of these: I don't get to do that often enough. This one is called The Echo Chamber and is from Heaney Farmhouse. It is indeed very black -- they often aren't -- and there's a generous stout-like head on it. The bitter and spicy red cabbage aroma immediately tells me this is BIPA done properly. 6% ABV gives it plenty of substance, providing a stage on which the hops and roasted malts can perform. An uncompromising bitterness is where the flavour begins. That fades and softens gradually, becoming aniseed and spinach first, then burnt toast and tar: all classic aspects of the style and quite delicious. There's a sweeter side too, a little dark caramel and praline which provides a modicum of balance. I get a sense that this is black IPA designed by someone who really likes black IPAs. It maybe leans a little to much on the punchy-bitter side at the expense of flavour complexity and subtlety, but not every beer needs to be complex and subtle. When you want a proper hop wallop with a side of roast, here's your man.

Rascals goes unapologetically for the hazy with Southern Cross, a very opaque orange number with skeins of murk surging through, making it look more like a glitter beer as it poured. "Chewy" is written in large capitals on the back, and while I wouldn't go quite that far, it is a big-textured fellow; a cuddly teddybear of an IPA. The aroma mixes savoury garlic oil with bitter liquorice, meaning it's not one of your tooth-rotting juice jobs, being rather more serious and grown-up. I think that's in its favour. A herbal bitterness is the centrepiece of the flavour: liquorice again, some thyme and some mineral smoke. The southern hemisphere hops aren't named on the can, but I'd be willing to bet that German-derived New Zealand varieties are involved, and Motueka in particular, with perhaps a dash of Nelson? Overall, it works very well as an unorthodox take on hazy IPA. Leave aside your expectations of clean tropicality and embrace the weighty -- OK, chewy -- herbal mineral savoury bitterness.

O Brother had a relatively quiet 2021 but, late on, its output did include Ghostkeeper, an IPA brewed with Strata and Idaho 7, 6.5% ABV and hazy, of course. The aroma is middle-of-the-road American citrus and the flavour is muted too. While I'm unpacking what's there, props to the texture which is full without veering into sticky, making for satisfying, chewable drinking. Back to the flavour, then. It delivers the basics of American-hopped beers: a little pith, a little resin. While it has the softness of the hazy varieties it's thankfully missing the off-notes of vegetable or earthy dregs that too often accompany the murk. I quaffed through it pretty swiftly and enjoyed it as a sinkable sort of heavy IPA. There's not much to consider here, but that's not always a bad point. It's clean, it's decent, and I think that's enough.

Keeping it Kilcoole, new to Larkin's's Curious Society range is a 7% ABV IPA called BitterSweet. It's a bright and cheery pale orange colour, hazy but lightly so. That does make it look a little watery, but the gravity ensures there's plenty of body. Citra and Mosaic are the hops and, as seems to be the case with these, Mosaic is doing all the heavy lifting. It smells totally tropical, of pineapple, mango and guava, all of them ripe and mushy. There's a tiny hint of Mosaic's dark side -- raw green onion -- but it's fleeting and not at all present in the flavour. Here the juicy joy continues with only minimal bitterness for balance. With the thickness and sweetness it does run the risk of turning cloying, and one 440ml can was plenty for me, but I thoroughly enjoyed that all the way through. If you're a juice-chaser when it comes to IPA, there is no better €3 you can spend. Indeed, other Irish breweries are charging more or less double for beer of similar quality.

The Porterhouse brings us into double IPA territory with DNEIPA at 8% ABV, brewed in collaboration with the MINAW art collective who provided four different designs for the cans. As the initials suggest, it's hazy, the aroma showing the classic juice and vanilla effect so prized in the style. The citrus is emphasised more, perhaps down to the Citra and Simcoe hops. There's also Sabro, and that's very apparent in the flavour with an early buzz of coconut. The citrus bite follows that, giving it a long and bitter middle and finish. While the texture is decently soft, there's none of the sweeter vanilla I was expecting, nor any garlic unpleasantness or alcohol heat. There are those who will deem this not to style, but I really enjoyed its undercover west coast moves. IPA has never been a mainstay style for The Porterhouse, but while this one is no thriller, it is very well made and tasty.

And then it's back to O Brother for another 8%-er: Yume. This one is unusually clear and golden for the hazemeisters of Kilcoole: a touch of bittyness but no actual murk. It still smells pretty sweet, mind, of both tropical fruit and tropical-fruit-flavoured candy. With Comet, Citra and Centennial advertised I felt I had a right to some citric bitterness, and while it does deliver that in the flavour to an extent, it's not clean and sharp. The malt buries it somewhat under a thick and quite hot syrupyness. In better examples, a big bitterness would balance that, or at least provide a punchy counterpart to distract you. Here the lime and grapefruit notes peep meekly around the dense sweetness, trying not to get in its way. I can't believe I'm criticising O Brother for not putting enough hops in, but that seems to be the issue here. There's a nod to old-school American double IPA, but not in a good way: all the burn and none of the zing. For those who'd like their DIPA to also be a winter warmer, I guess.

A late add comes from Brú in the form of their Xtra pale ale, pinted at The Beer Temple on Saturday night last. It's not a new beer, having been launched in the autumn, but cans seem scarce and that was the first time I encoutered it. It's broadly in the New England style, a lightly hazy yellow, soft-textured and predominantly sweet. There's a very decent juice quotient in with a balancing pithy bitterness and a surprise dusting of coconut. The body is a little bit lacking, but it's one of those than can be described as refreshing rather than simply thin. It would make for an ideal thirst-quencher were it not for the overclocked ABV of 5.7% -- you need to be careful if knocking it back. Overall though, it's a well-made beer, not a million miles from Trouble's Ambush, and well suited to the brewery's core range.

With normal trading back in the pubs, and dry January turning to moist February, I expect the supply lines to start kicking into gear again. I'll be waiting, as always.