Helping out

Maybe it's no more than a token gesture, but it's something. The invasion of Ukraine has sent the international beer trade off in search of products from that country, to put a bit of cash into companies that can doubtless do with it, and allow drinkers to show solidarity. Ireland got a shipment of two of Kyiv's producers, and I picked up a sample selection of both.

First is Rebrew, who have a tomato gose called Pomo d'Oro. From the artwork on the can it looks like there's chilli in this one too. I mean, how could I not? It looks like a tomato cocktail in the glass, pale and murky brownish-red, but with a lively sparkle too. The aroma is very herbal, like a heavily basiled pizza sauce. A glance at the ingredients tells me there is indeed basil, as well as rosemary, coriander and paprika. Still, the savoury tomato is at the centre of the flavour, with the pepper and herbs seasoning it around the edges. It's not sour, however, and even shows a touch of lemonade sweetness. You don't need me to tell you this isn't a beer to be taken seriously. I liked the crazy complexity, and how everything they've bunged into it can be tasted. That said, it's a little thin, and I would have liked a bit more heft for 5% ABV. Otherwise, it's exactly the sort of properly ridiculous recipe I will always have time for.

It goes without saying that when I noticed there was a black IPA on offer I grabbed that too. This is Plague Doctor, 6.2% ABV and hopped with Citra and El Dorado. The hops' respective attributes are used well: you get the sharp citrus and oily resins of one and the Skittlesque bright candy of the other. Both are complemented by the malt: bitter and roasty coffee meeting milk chocolate and fruitcake. This is another fun one, smooth and accessible, with only barely enough of a nasty poke to qualify as properly black IPA. This isn't a style that usually lends itself to balance, but here's one that has it. I don't normally crave bitterness, in general, but a bit more here would have improved the beer. Despite that, it more than meets the requirements of black IPA.

The Rebrew set finishes on a triple IPA called Trivia, one with added mango, which I don't think I realised when I bought it. It's very apparent from the pour, though: that telltale opaque orange pulpiness. It smells of mango aplenty, concentrated and cloying. The flavour is gentler, however, and it's hard to believe this is a full 10% ABV. Soothingly sweet tropical fruit rubs up against a mild hop bitterness, tasting as much like a smoothie as a beer. This is another where I would have designed it slightly differently had it been up to me, but it still works. I'm sure there's nobody daft enough to describe themselves as a fan of triple IPA, but if there were I suspect they might be disappointed by how low-impact and easy-going this one is: no heat, no punch, just fruit. Technically it's probably an impressive feat but it's maybe just a bit too bland for the claims it makes.

On, then, to Varvar, and their sleek slim cans of stout. Collaboration is the name of the game, and the Smoked Stout is presented with the assistance of North in Leeds. Pouring was a pain as the pretty can was overfilled and overcarbonated. The aroma from the result was worryingly kippery too, but while there's a certain fishy aspect to the flavour, it's predominantly clean. At the base level there's a soft and unctuous stout of 8.2% ABV: somewhere on the cusp of export and imperial. The bitterness is low, but the space where I'd normally be looking for hop wallop is occupied by a sweetly caramelised smoky quality. I really like how it's impactful, assertive and bold while also smooth, balanced and rather cheery. This is another where the alcohol is well hidden, but it doesn't taste compromised as a result. As a stout fan and a smoked beer fan I think they've nailed it here. What's next?

"Imperial chipotle stout" is next, and there was no way I was passing that. It has lactose too, hence the name Double Dragon Milk. The aroma is fairly typical of strong stout, and traditional tarry roasted bitterness with no novelty factors. That's how the flavour starts but it doesn't take long for the burn to kick in: a sharp scorch down the gullet, finishing with a more subtle smoky paprika pepperiness. They haven't skimped on the chilli, which I like, and enjoyed the building warmth in my belly as I drank. While clearly a strong stout (8.3% ABV), and a little sticky, it's not sweet, with no softening influence from the lactose. Overall it's a lovely job, though if chilli in beer isn't your thing, you would be better off to avoid.

If that seemed on the weak side for a professed imperial stout, Naked makes up for it. Its 12.3% ABV appears to entitle it to an excise certificate from the Ukrainian government. This is another collaboration, in association with Kingpin from Poland. As one might expect, it's extremely thick, pouring tarrily; jet black in colour with a short-lived brown head. It smells hot, with all the overclocked stout features: umami, ristretto, putty and jam. Yum. The flavour is a bit more together, running with the red fruit and coffee up front, backed by caramel, aniseed and chocolate sauce. It's not the most complex of powerhouses, but it's decent and, as the name suggests, completely devoid of adornments. If you like a stout big enough to stick your lips together while not doing anything silly, here it is.

For me, this was a fun introduction to craft brewing in Ukraine. It's a shame about the circumstances, but maybe we'll get more from these breweries when things calm down again. I hope so.