A passage to Sligo

I thought I would get all my pre-Hagstravaganza White Hag beers closed off in a blog post the Monday before the festival, but circumstances conspired against me, and a couple of days beforehand, Darkness landed in. This isn't the brewery's first foray into straight-up session stout: Black Pig, sold mostly to export, was around before it. But while that was a sweet and chocolatey one, this is bone dry, packed with roasted notes and an almost ashen smokiness. The seriousness continues with a mineral background flavour, part aspirin, part clay. The pointy edges are accentuated by a carbonated serve, running no risk of creaminess. After the initial shock, I found myself rather enjoying it. No-nonsense stouts are thin on the ground and I appreciate a new one, though I've no idea how widespread it will be. Pubs who might be shopping around for a microbrewed stout not owned by an MMA fighter would do well to look this way.

And then it was off to Ballymote once more. Time at Hagstravaganza is always tight, and the bar service sporadically backed-up, so I didn't spend much time strolling around or taking in the atmosphere. Just the beers, please.

I opened my account with Wide Street's Saison Des Pyrénées, a saison given two years of ageing in Jurançon barrels. It's just as well that the brewery executives were on hand to tell me that's a wine. It doesn't taste very wine-like, nor even oaky, lacking the rounded spice that normally brings. Instead it's sharp and tangy, full of the waxy bitterness often found in the stronger sort of geuze. The weighty body fits that mould, even though it's a relatively modest 6% ABV. Still, I liked the heft of it, and the lingering tart residue it leaves behind on the palate. Not that there was time to spend enjoying that.

Ukrainian brewery Pravda were on the board and I was immediately attracted to TomYum, described as a spiced pale ale. There were two things wrong with that: for one, it was red coloured and red tasting, showing lots toffee and fudge, like an American amber. And then there wasn't much spice either. Ginger, chilli, galangal, lime and lemongrass are all supposed to be in there, yet only a cola-like phosphorescent tang in the finish was there to show any spicing. It was fine to drink: I like that sort of hopped and toffee-forward red beer, but it was a big disappointment as regards the promise of the description.

As the forgiving sort, I came back to Pravda much later in the day, for a go of their Syla tripel. This proved a bit of a hot mess, tasting powerfully of banana in particular, and with more of burn than I would expect, even from 8% ABV. One forgets how rare a skill the Belgians have in making something of this spec drinkable. In fairness to this one, there is some good complexity, and I picked out pear, grapefruit and a little peppery spice, but none of them offset the cloying chemical esters which otherwise dogged it. 

Staying on the rarity kick but moving closer to home, two draught-only beers from Beoir Chorca Duibhne which tend not to travel much beyond their west Kerry home. Beoir Rua is a no-frills red, made for pub drinking at 4% ABV. It's properly red and clear, and mostly quite dry. A gentle hint of sweeter strawberry is the one nod to a multidimensional flavour, otherwise it's a clean and crisp drinking beer. It was perhaps a bit lost at an event like this, but palate cleansers have their place.

That was certainly what I had in mind some hours later when I came to Kerry Kölsch. In the great tradition of very small microbreweries, Beoir Chorca Duibhne isn't set up for lager, so they've created this warm-fermented blonde to fill the space. And it works: they've kept the fermentation properly cool so there are no surprise fruity esters here, only a clean minerality of the sort found in Cologne's own signature beers. 4% is the ABV once again and it was fantastically refreshing as I geared up for the final beers of the gig.

There was quite a decent showing of proper lagers too, and I felt a bit guilty for not making time for some Donzoko, since their beer is otherwise unobtainable in these parts. Instead I had one from a different UK lager specialist, Braybrooke, with the inspiring name of Pilsner Lager. It's pretty much textbook, if maybe a tiny bit on the weak side at 4.5% ABV and with quite a severe bitterness. Rich described it has being in the north German style typified by Jever, and I can see that, but the Germans tend to have a herbal flavour to make the bitterness more worthwhile; here it seemed to be done for its own sake rather than being one element in a picture. While this was enjoyable, I think I would get bored of it if faced with a pint.

It also didn't fare well by being consumed next to King Crispy from Oregon brewer Deschutes. Despite the name giving me the absolute ick, the beer is perfection. The best pilsner (and by that I mostly mean Keesmann Herren Pils) has a creamy softness which somehow manages to complement the invigorating noble hops. This has that: a calorific richness to accentuate the pinch of fresh green nettles. And yes, it's crisp too (not "crispy") and 4.8% ABV and all the other things that good pils ought to be. This is a classic case of the Americans taking a European beer style and recreating it absolutely perfectly, and better than most European breweries do it.

Their ability to do this was called in question by some festival-goers with regards to Bagby's take on English bitter. King of the Britons poured yellow, not the oxtail brown which I guess is some drinkers' only experience of the stuff. Bagby has gone northern, and there are vibes of Marble Pint and Boltmaker about this one, with its sharp bitterness. There's a cheeky hint of American grapefruit in it too, adding a certain sense of Jaipur. It all tails off quite quickly, as one would expect for a 4.4% ABV bitter. I'd say this is something of a novelty in Oceanside, California, where I'm guessing the beers have a lot more poke. It does make it a bit of a damp squib over here where such things are more commonplace. But good effort, Bagby. Convincing.

Haze is usually inevitable, and here it served to introduce me to two breweries I'd never tried before. First up is the Breton brewery AERoFAB, and a collaboration they did with White Hag called Feothan. It's quite a light pale ale, 5% ABV and hopped with Citra and Chinook. The colour is misty rather than murky. Keeping things light was a good idea because, while the flavour does have a central twang of garlic, it's not overwhelming, and is accompanied by a much more pleasant melon note. There's none of the burn or stickiness that heavily hopped haze sometimes presents. This is another one which might work better in calmer surrounds than the bustle of a festival.

There were no such subtleties in the IPA I picked to bring to the train with me. This was I Wish I Could Fly, from the English brewery Sureshot. No Orval jokes, please. It's 6.5% ABV and its combination of Citra, Nelson, Mosaic and Rakau should have given it plenty of character, but I wasn't feeling it, whether that be due to palate fatigue on the day or haze fatigue in general. There's garlic, there's vanilla: if you like those things in beer, you'll like this. I was still sipping my half pint when we reached Longford and nothing more interesting had happened with it along the route.

The beer before this, and a possible contributor to the suspected palate fatigue, was LBR Rauch by Lambrate. You really have to read the small print on the tap badge to tell that this is a doppelbock -- no such information was on the menu board or in the festival programme. Or you could taste it, because it is absolutely a doppelbock to its core, with the added bonus of smoked malt. That isn't always a good thing but they have successfully Schlenkerla'd it, keeping it clean and smooth, the bacon-like smoke flooding the palate from the first sip and departing on a gorgeous grilled rasher bite. It pulls off that very German trick of showing off its 8% ABV with heat and density, yet somehow also being supremely easy to drink. Magnificent work from the Milanese team here.

For the second year running, the main festival bar was complemented by a smaller one in the brewery's hospitality suite, ably staffed by the Brickyard crew and pouring barrel-aged delights and rarities. I stepped in just as the brewer from Green Cheek was opening a bottle of Don't Tell Brian, their *deep breath* banana chocolate coconut vanilla cupcake stout. It's 13.1% ABV and apparently eye-wateringly expensive. It's also eye-wateringly sweet, with the banana strangely to the fore. The secret is lots and lots of real bananas, apparently. Beyond that it's the average sort of hyper-sticky pastry stout, all glazed donuts and pink marshmallows: interesting for the first five seconds and then a horrible chore to drink. Brian is better off not knowing.

To the barrels, then. White Hag had the first one I wanted to try: Maccan, a 12.2% ABV (very) strong ale, aged in Irish whiskey barrels. It's a dark garnet colour and is every bit as warming as the ABV suggests. From the base beer there's both sweet runny caramel and the sticky burnt sort as well, with a hint of summer fruit for nuance -- raspberry in particular. I would normally be looking for the honeyish character from Irish whiskey but this tastes more full-on oak-and-vanilla, like bourbon. It's unsubtle, but it's fun. The only down side was a growing banana aspect that arrived as it warmed. I hope that's not in the bottled version, whenever that appears.

The last new brewery of my day was Oregon's Alesong, and a pale 7.3% ABV number, called Silver Lining, badged simply as a farmhouse ale. That hides quite a convoluted production process, involving old and young beer blended, Brettanomyces, foeders and dry hopping with modern American varieties. It's worth it. I love this type of beer for its smooth and rich white-wine flavours, a bit like Sauternes, and this has that, but there's a brighter, fresher coconut and mango side as well, something that could run the risk of making it seem trashy or gimmicky, but doesn't: it's still class all the way through. Barrel-aged saison does not have the sort of flavour profile that I thought would be worth playing around with, but it seems that it is.

Finally, on a recommendation from Brickyard's Erwin, Hesperus by Epochal. I wasn't terribly impressed by the stout this Glasgow brewery brought to Mullingar this year, but I'm all about second chances. Hesperus is described as a stock ale and is 7.2% ABV. Pale gold and clear, there's quite an assertive sourness before the Brett arrives and starts throwing shapes. Luscious, unctuous peach and pineapple jostle cheerily with peppery spice. It could run the risk of being busy, but everything is smoothed together, complementary and surprisingly drinkable given the strength. If I had a 75cl bottle of this I'm not sure how much I would be willing to share.

It seems like the barrel bar is the place to be. Maybe I'll start there next year. Until then, cheers to all the organisers and crew for another fun day out.