Distant horizons

The temperature hit the mid-30s when I was in Plovdiv. That necessitated some split-shift tourism, visiting sights in the morning and evening, with the sweltering afternoons spent cowering under air-conditioning at the hotel. Hot-weather beers were also a necessity and, via the good offices of the Beertherapy off licence in town, I found these potentially suitable candidates, from Helsinki's CoolHead brewery. The name alone seemed apt. 

Naked Sauna Sour was where I started. This is described as a Nordic sour, using mixed fermentation. It's a hazy orange with no real head, so nothing unusual there. Both the flavour and aroma seemed the very opposite of Nordic to me: downright tropical. I was getting a Liltish mix of pineapple, mango and grapefruit, although unfortunately the brewery doesn't tell us what the actual ingredients are, though they do say that coriander seed is part of it, which I never would have guessed. It could be that the fruit is entirely hop-derived, in which case I'm very impressed. At only 4% ABV it's light-bodied and very refreshing with lots of cleansing sparkle, if not a very pronounced sourness. Still, I liked what it does. There's no excessive sweetness or syrup, and it served up some very welcome hot-weather refreshment. As far as I can see, they've been making this for a few years now, and seem to have it finely honed.

That was enough of a success to have me back in the CoolHead section of the Beertherapy fridge the following day, for more of the similar. Round two opened on CoolHead Gose, seemingly a simple example, only 3.5% and classically constructed with only salt and coriander as add-on ingredients. The first impression I got from tasting it was that the earlier one definitely wasn't made with fruit. This is also a mixed fermentation beer, presumably using the same microbes, and it tastes massively of sweet and juicy pineapple. The salt gives the body a briney boost, which lessens its refreshment power a little, but the spritzy fizz and a solid helping of sourness mean it still gets the job done. I couldn't taste any coriander, just some extra fruit complexities, like Golden Delicious apple, cranberry and whitecurrant. I can't say this tastes exactly like a classic gose, even when it's made from the same stuff, but it's not some candied concoction either, and is very palatable indeed.

The next one is a candied concoction, and with Nordic honesty is labelled as a "candy sour". The name is Pineapple Grapefruit Sour, which could have been applied to the first beer. This is quite a different creature, however. It doesn't appear to be mixed fermentation, and doesn't have anything like the same flavour profile. It's 5% ABV and a murky dark orange colour, quite heavily textured and smelling of a grapefruit soft drink more than beer. This is very much one of those theoretically sour jobs, tasting sweet and sugary. The grapefruit adds a little zest to the flavour but not enough to balance it with any significant tartness. The pineapple is no more than a faint trace, mostly in the aftertaste: real, but unobtrusive. As these things go, it's good. They haven't loaded it with vanilla or lactose or suchlike unpleasantness, but in a sequence with the previous two beers it doesn't stack up so well.

Finally, tropical heat calls for Tropical Sour, this one with mango, passionfruit, lychee and peach, and looking like a blend of the juice of all of them, one with sizeable chunks of what I hope is fruit pulp bobbing about inside. We're back down to 4% ABV, and back to a light and fizzy body. For all that it probably has a high proportion of real fruit in it, it doesn't taste especially fruity; only of a general mish-mash of unspecified tropicals. I guess the passionfruit is to the fore, but a good deal less than in most passionfruit-flavoured beers. The aroma is rather brighter and fresher, suggesting a fleshy juiciness that never gets delivered in the taste. It's OK, but not their best work.

I think what we might have here is a clear demonstration of the benefits of mixed fermentation. Those ones were much more complex and, frankly, much more fruity than the ones with actual fruit in them. Overall, there's a Nordic thoroughness to each -- all are as the brewer meant them to be, I'm sure. But that's not to say that they're equals.

On the early train out of Plovdiv I opened Tundra, Põhjala's non-alcoholic pale ale. I guess I thought that this reputable brewery would be better at this sort of thing than most, but they're not. It's a very typical example of the genre with all the attendant problems. The main one is an unpleasant metallic bitterness right at the centre, nasty and inescapable. There are some nicer features behind this, suggesting that this would be quite enjoyable, were it a regular beer. The texture is soft and creamy, with some sweetly pleasant tangerine and satsuma notes, very much in New England territory without going overboard on the vanilla. It's just a shame that the aspirin honks all the through it, from opening to aftertaste. My quest for acceptable non-alcoholic pale ale will continue, when I can be bothered.

With the sun over the yard arm it was booze yes, gluten no, for the next one: Helge pale ale at 5% ABV. Often, gluten is stripped out by a clarifying agent, but not here: it's a very hazy pale shade of yellow. There was a distinctive and unusual aroma and flavour and it took me a while to pin it down to sherry, of the dark cream sort. I would be surprised if this were the result of oxidation so I suspect it's the result of whatever gluten-avoiding grains they've used, although only oats and barley are named on the can. The hops add a seriously tropical character: a concentration of passionfruit and pineapple with lots of juiciness. There's a little of haze's typical grit, but well hidden under the sherry oddness. It's not bad, overall, and certainly an interesting take on hazy pale ale. No gluten doesn't mean it's lacking in flavour or individuality.

We finish sour, with Meri, a gose. It's a straight-up example, something much easier to find in Bulgaria than at home. In the glass it's a pale amber colour, the head quickly fizzling away. Its aroma is spritzy lemon, suggesting a generous quantity of hop, but that doesn't get realised on tasting. First up there is a jaw-pinching sourness, followed by a smooth yet assertive salinity. Is pink Himalayan rock salt a more salty salt than ordinary salt? From the taste of this beer, it might be. But no hops and no coriander to speak of, even though both are in the ingredients, which is disappointing. The salt is all that's left in the finish and aftertaste. This is OK but unexciting. Straight gose is such a novelty that finding one is always a treat, but there are ways of zhushing them up without doing anything weird. This doesn't bother with either approach.

I associate Põhjala more with strong, dark and/or barrel-aged beers. These three middling efforts in the light and pale space indicate why that may be.

And that's the end of the Bulgaria posts. I'm very glad I went; I commend Plovdiv in particular to anyone into visiting cool European cities; but the beer scene didn't seem to be quite there in summer 2024. A final shout out to everyone involved in keeping it running. I appreciate how difficult that is.