Beach bunny

Today's beers were a bit of a new departure for Kinnegar. They created a mixed four-pack of summer specials, keenly priced, I thought, at €13 in Molloy's. I presume that Kinnegar's regular "Brewers At Play" small-batch series fed into the development of these ones, as some of the styles have shown up once or twice in that sequence.

First out of the box, however, was one they haven't done before: Raspberry Grisette, a farmhouse ale, the orange-pink colour of rhubarb pie filling. Grisettes aren't usually sour, but here the fruit has added a tartness which makes the aroma seem a little like something more wild-fermented. I thought there would be a bit more of a funky, flowery, farmhouse flavour, but the raspberries reign in the taste. It's very real; not sweetly jammy or candy-like, but still juicy with an assertive acidity. The finish is quick, though it's not watery, having a soft and pillowy wheat-enhanced body.  As a summer refresher with something different going on, it works well. If the character were sustainable at ABVs below its 3.8%, it could even be an excellent upgrade on a radler. There was only one in the box, but a couple more would have gone down well straight after.

A Pilsner was in order before we hit the hops. Kinnegar generally knows its way around lager, so I wasn't expecting anything untoward here. It's a pale one, despite a substantial 5% ABV, and very slightly hazed. There's a surprisingly new-world-smelling lemony aroma, and this takes a strange but fun turn on tasting. The hop profile is... strong... and I always like that in a pilsner. Although, usually, the hops bring familiar zaps of grassy Saaz or herbal Hallertau. This one suggested to me those modern German hops which are aimed at copying the Americans: Saphir, Mandarina Bavaria, Hüll Melon, and the like. A glance at the label tells me it's done with non-specified New Zealand hops, which makes sense. There's definite citrus zest, bitter to the point of pithy, and then something altogether more earthy and vegetal. The Sorachi Ace taste-a-likes seem to have gone out of hop fashion recently, but I got a little of that vibe here. Which is to say, this is a somewhat odd but very tasty pilsner.

Inevitably there was haze in the box, represented by a 4.5% ABV Hazy Pale Ale. Oats in the grist make it another full-bodied one, with a properly fluffy body. On this there's typical vanilla and zesty yellow chew sweets, but a balancing citric bitterness too, making it all seem much more grown up. There's enough of haze's good points and few enough of its downsides to give this broad appeal. Those who are generally well-disposed to what cloudy pale ale brings will find much to enjoy in it. Haze sceptics, however, should also appreciate this as a well-honed example, showing none of the really unpleasant features the genre sometimes, too often, evokes. If the thought of a hazy pale ale puts you off committing to the box, it shouldn't.

After this, a theory was emerging about the theme here. The last beer would settle it.

This is a Cold IPA, still not breaking the bank on ABV at 5.3%. Lots of foam on this one, and it's a clear pale golden. The theory is holding. There's not much aroma, so for a lager/IPA hybrid it's doing a poor job on the IPA front. The flavour doesn't quite gel either. Where I expected a big up-front kick of hops, there's nothing really. It's only in the finish — too late, frankly — that there's an echo of fading zest. A tiny burst of white onion acidity ensures compliance with the broad cold IPA specifications. In front of that it's very plain, having a decent heft in the mouthfeel but without even the grainy foretaste of most bland lagers. It's the refined blandness of a highly processed industrial beer, which is not what it is, and I'm sure not what it's meant to be. I think that an attempt to make it lager-clean has malfunctioned, Incredible Hulk style.

My theory, and it's not an especially insightful one, is that all four are drrrrrrinkin' beers. You're meant to have this box in your cooler box, outdoors, possibly in one of the handful of public spaces in this country where it's legal to drink alcohol. They're fire-and-forget thirst-quenchers, and if I'm correct that that's what they're meant to be, then big applause for making them so interesting. Accessible beer does not have to be bland. The Cold IPA didn't suit me as much, but I still finished it happy.

An addendum is another Kinnegar summer beer, one that has been making appearances on draught around the country recently. It's a ginger beer called Jackrabbit: 4% ABV and, when I ordered it in The Back Page, it came served with a wedge of lime and a couple of shakes of Angostura Bitters. It's a murky orange colour in the glass, and mildly spicy, like a cola. Thirst-quenching and fizzy is about all I can say about it. The flavour doesn't offer much ginger, which is a little disappointing, though perhaps explains the pub's desire to garnish it. I see this more as a mixer than a standalone drink.

As a brewery named after a beach, it's very much on-brand for Kinnegar to lean into the summer beers like this. It would be nice to have a counterpart 4-pack for winter, though.