07 June 2024

Lodger and badger

I picked up today's beers together and, other than that, the only thing they have in common is that they're black.

We have an oatmeal stout to begin, a gentle affair at only 4% ABV. This is Bearded Badger from Kildare brewery Farringtons. It's a nice and shiny vinyl-black, though the tan-coloured head doesn't last long. Cereal and coffee is the aroma, orthodox for an oatmeal stout, which is good, as I worried a bit about the low strength. Sure enough, it's thin of body, missing the pleasing smoothness the style ought to have and coming across as a bit watery. The flavour is quite the curate's egg: clanging metallic notes and a distressing chlorophenol twang, but also a happy dark roast arabica and a fresh old-world hop bitterness. On balance, the good side wins out, making it a decent beer, just not what ideal oatmeal stout -- silky and nourishing -- ought to be. I recommend adding a bag or two more oats to the recipe, stuck mash be damned.

West Kerry's Leann Láidir echoes the names of two superb dark Irish beers: Carlow's Leann Folláin and Four Provinces's late lamented Láidir. For those who weren't paying attention in Irish class, the name translates as "Heavy Ale" and it's badged as a "strong barrel aged rye porter", strong meaning 8.5% ABV in this instance. The pour resulted in a loose-bubbled head, a reminder that this brewery is no stranger to the wonders of cask dispense. The aroma is pure chocolate, smelling sweet and creamy, with maybe a soft caramel filling. We're definitely in dessert territory. It's as heavy as the name suggests, requiring a real effort to pull from the glass. As expected, the carbonation is exceedingly gentle and, ignoring it, it's quite a wine-like experience behind it: big and fruity, mixing plum, raisin and black cherry jam with an oaky seasoning and a sharper raspberry tang. That's as involved as the oak gets, making for a very subtle barrel-aged effect. Underlying the top notes is a solidly sweet base of toffee and treacle. I don't really get where the rye fits in, though there's a certain balancing dryness in the background that could be attributed to it. Overall, though, it's not a beer to pick apart into component aspects, it's a beer to enjoy as a single harmonious experience. It would be perfectly suited to deepest winter, when rib-sticking calorific beers are a requirement. I had absolutely no problem sipping through it on a summer evening just the same.

How very basic of me to conclude that big and weighty dark beers are great while weaker ones aren't as good. I know that's not the rule, but it's pretty much what I've found today. What I need now is a pint of good Irish dark mild to restore my faith in that genre. Hint hint, brewers.

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