Seasons in Galway

I have been a consistent enjoyer of the Catharina sour beers from Galway Bay, the only Irish brewery that makes them. The latest, Felina, has been around since the summer, and I think I anticipated enjoying it so much that I missed the right moment to open it. So on a chilly late September afternoon, I had to pretend it was early August. 

This is 5% ABV and the lightly hazy orange colour of diluted cordial. Mango, papaya and passionfruit have been added ("100% real") and it's 5% ABV. I expected the passionfruit to be its gateway to instant tropicality, but for once that's not so obvious. To me it tastes primarily of pineapple, though the mango is very apparent too, with the others in supporting roles. As expected, it works beautifully, delivering a ray of purest sunshine, straight to the tastebuds. The sourness is no more than a tang, but one which performs well by balancing the fruit sweetness, and there's also a little hint of tropical citrus -- a fresh squeeze of lime and grapefruit -- to aid that balance further. It is maybe a little thin for the strength and style, although that, and the gently sparkling carbonation, helps to make it an easy drinker. This is definitely another hit from Oranmore's Catharina sour production facility. Keep them coming, encroaching winter be damned.

Autumn then brought no fewer than two new lagers to the taps at The Black Sheep. I began on Haus, a plain-spoken, plainly presented pilsner. Despite this, they've applied the usual attention to detail to the recipe and created something worthy of being filed with north German classics like Jever. Of course it's clear and clean and crisp and golden, as one would expect, but there's a distinctly Nordsee hop quotient: sharp, bitter and herbal, all cut grass and peppery rocket.

The initial burst is invigorating, and then there's a long finish as well, the green noble-hop oils clinging to the palate like those of a west-coast American IPA. There was a risk in putting such unapologetically assertive hop fireworks on too thin a base, since this is only 4.5% ABV, but there's enough chewy malt to balance the sticky hops; giving them free rein in the flavour without spoiling the party. As Irish lagers go, this is benchmark stuff. I like to assess unfamiliar breweries on how they do pilsner, and were I new to Galway Bay, they'd pass with the flyingest of colours.

All aboard the virtual ICE for a trip south to Bavaria. Three taps over we find Illuminator, a doppelbock. They're not serving this by the Maß on Capel Street, it being 7.9% ABV and Irish people being bad at drinking. In the glass it's the proper chestnut red-brown and smells of burnt caramel with a little cola-like herb spicing. I would never have guessed the strength: something in the lager process has thinned this right out. While it doesn't taste or feel watery, it comes across as a far lighter dunkel or similar. There's that lovely liquorice and fruitcake flavour, but it's quite brief, lacking the malty warmth I was expecting behind it. That could be a temperature thing. Given a few minutes, the beer had warmed up and I got a bit more chocolate and brown-bread substance, but given a few minutes after that, the glass was empty. They have also made this available in half-litre bottles, and I think that might be the better format for it. Still, strong beers on draught is a personal campaign goal and I won't complain too hard whenever one shows up. This is, again, top notch stuff.

Three more beauts from Galway Bay, a brewery which has been quite consistent with its bangers, year-to-date.