Get 'Er Drank

A big thank you to Ger 'Er Brewed which sent me today's beer, free and unbidden. I hadn't seen these ones on sale here in Dublin so it was nice to have the opportunity to try them. Several have since arrived in good off licences around these parts.

The occasion seems to have been the launch by Get 'Er Brewed's brewery, Our Brewery, of a series of bottled barrel-aged beers, but we'll start on the cans, and a pilsner called Pressure To Pick, created in the hoppy Italian style. It's a little hazy in the glass, pouring a dark gold colour, suggesting more than its mere 4.3% ABV. There's not much aroma, which is fine, but the brightly bitter hopping I was anticipating in the flavour does not materialise. Instead this is rather plain and grainy, suggesting the golden syrup of something Czech style. The hops are mild and grassy, which fits that spec also. There's a decent body for the strength, and it's perfectly clean, just not the craft take on the established style I was expecting. A big brewery could have made this.

Also low strength, only 4.2% ABV, is The Crunch, a brown ale. I like brown ales and always welcome a new one into rotation, but this suffers a bit from that understated gravity. It lacks body, and that has a knock-on effect on the flavour, which I think is a little muted because it doesn't have the malt base to work from. That's a pity, because what's there is excellent: an absolutely classic blend of soft caramel, milk chocolate, and creamy coffee. It deserves a creamy texture to go with that, but doesn't get one. Still, again, it's fine, and a very easy-drinking and approachable beer. I can't help thinking about the beer it could have been with a bit more body, however.

The hoppy ones consist of a pale ale and an IPA. Modern Love is 4.2% ABV. The hops are Cascade, Citra, Simcoe and a type of hop extract called Trident Salvo. It's an attractive clear gold on pouring, and smells quite tropical, though there's definitely an edge, too: Citra biding her time. The yeast they've used is called "Juicy", and that's certainly the effect it has given the flavour. Not quite real juice, though: something more like Capri-Sun or 1980s Fanta; echoing the taste of orange juice, but at a significant remove from the real thing. Sweetness is the core attribute here, with a little honey from the Maris Otter malt, and then whatever the fruitbomb hops are doing. The bitter punchline from Citra is never delivered, with the grapefruit element in the flavour dusted liberally with sugar. I guess if you like your pale ale to taste like a children's soft drink, this has the goods. I would have liked more balance.

Do You Wanna Funk? enquiries the IPA. This looks similar to the pale ale but is 6.5% ABV, and this time two types of the Salvo stuff have been used: Trident and Sultana, with Riwaka thrown in too. With that and the return of the Juicy yeast, I was expecting fruit. Sure enough, the aroma is like Skittles, but the flavour hits different. Here is that bitter edge I was looking for in the pale ale: a sharp pine effect that I would have thought much more likely in the beer with Citra. That intensifies as it goes along, becoming a hard wax tang by the finish, seasoned with piquant pepper. It's invigorating and enjoyable in the way old-school US IPAs tend to be. The sweetness is there to a certain degree -- a seam of mandarin running under the resin -- but I think the main thing the New-England-ish yeast has done is boost the body and give the hops more room to work within. They haven't specifically called this a West Coast IPA, but it fits the specs nicely, I think. The name is silly but the flavour is classic.

The last can wasn't a freebie, but purchased in Craft Central last week. Once in a Lifetime is an oatmeal stout of 5% ABV, including two American hop varieties: Columbus and Centennial. That's promising, though I had qualms about the colour, which is definitely on the brown side, even red (sorry, no photo). Those hops come through on their promise in a delightfully floral aroma, a characteristic which continues well into the flavour. You get a base of dry cocoa, zhushed up with rosewater and a squeeze of slightly bitter citrus on the end. That's fun, but what lets it all down a little, once again, is the texture. The deal with oatmeal stout is it should be full and smooth, and while this is not watery, it's surprisingly light. I'm not judging it to style, but it would definitely be improved by being bigger and darker, and I think there's enough elbow room in the strength to allow that.

On to the fancy bottles, then.

I extended the benefit of the doubt to their putting a lager, Humble, in a green glass bottle. 17 months in a Chardonnay barrel could mean that the hopping is irrelevant. But no: the absolute bang of skunk off it, as soon as soon it was opened, was horrific. It got worse on pouring, and Chardonnay was not to the front of my mind when I went in for the taste. It's certainly not wanting for hops: the flavour goes big on bitterness, flinty and dry, flecked with zinc and granite. You have to wait for the wine, but it does arrive in the finish, softly vinous and vanilla-ish. This is... odd. I liked it, but it wouldn't be for everyone. Neither barrel-aged beer fans nor lager purists will get their money's worth, but it definitely gives insufferable nerds something to stroke their wispy-whiskered chins over. Exercise caution, but give it a go. I can safely say that nobody on this island, nor possibly even the one next to us, is making a beer like this.

Flemish oud bruin is not a style I've seen an Irish brewery tackle before, or at least not deliberately. And it's not one I seek out from Belgian breweries either, preferring the lighter briskness of its cousin, Flanders red. This one, Low Land, aged for 17 months in wine barrels, is a stonking 8.2% ABV, which is one of the problems I have with the style generally. That makes it heavily malt-laden, chewy and gooey like a steamed pudding dessert, but without the fun chocolate. There's a little fruit, emerging more so as it warms (it will; you'll drink it slowly): dried currants and grapefruit peel. The mixed-fermentation sourness and old oak character are present, but held in check by the malt weight. I've had much worse oud bruins than this, but it still didn't suit me particularly. Dark and warm; fine. Dark and sour; OK too. Dark and warm and sour? Unnecessary.

The next one is wild, hi. Untamed is described simply as a wild ale. They don't tell us anything about the fermentation process, but after that, it was aged in a foeder for 27 months. That seems a bit much but it hasn't done it any harm. It's a pale gold colour and smells both sweet and funky, of candied lemon peel, orchard floor and pale dessert wine. Its texture is light and spritzy, despite the substantial 7.5% ABV. The flavour leans in to the apple quality of the aroma, tasting quite like a dry farmhouse cider: juice, oak and lots of earthy, mouldy, tasty, autumnal rot. Though fabulously flavoursome, it's subtle too, showing plenty of refinement. Version 1 of beers like this (and the label is marked as such) are almost always a bit ragged around the edges. Not so here.

The other big bottle was Séasúr, described as a mixed fermentation saison. It's a strong one: 8.5% ABV and quite a dark amber colour, presumably from the inclusion of toasted rye in the grist. For barrel-ageing it's had 18 months in white Bordeaux casks, and there's a distinct, concentrated, white grape effect in both the aroma and flavour. There's plenty of alcohol vapour as well, resulting in a smell like dried-in spilled white wine, which isn't very alluring. Coriander and orange peel are listed as ingredients but don't really feature in the taste. The oak side of it is a little tacked on as well: unsubtle vanilla adding another sort of sweetness to what should be quite a dry beer. I opened this as a pre-dinner spritz, but really it would work better as a dark, after-dinner affair. I had hoped for more spice and more sourness, but this really doesn't play that way. A bit like the lager, it's interesting and different, and enjoyable enough for that. I've tasted this kind of thing done better, however.

The Lithuanian farmhouse styles are new to Irish brewing, I think, first represented by this keptinis, Razma. We're going strong and dark again, with an ABV of 8.8% and a garnet colour. Whereas traditional Lithuanian brewing tends to produce beer to be consumed fresh, this has been left for 18 months inside rum barrels. I suspect that authenticity was not a concern. The spirit element is very strong in the aroma: I wouldn't have guessed rum as there's a significant malt component, but definitely distilled alcohol. The flavour goes in a different direction completely, calling to mind red wine or sweet vermouth. I guess it's the oak that's dominant, but there's a lovely layer of sour cherries and rum-soaked raisins: a mature and luxurious fruit side. That comes with a boozy heat, and the finish in particular is verging on harsh, with its hot dash of spirits. Overall, though, this is very nice. It defies classification a little, but to me the Flanders red or oud bruin genres are what it resembles most. The production process may have been traditionally Lithuanian, but the finished product is all about the barrels.

It's nicely appropriate that we conclude this excursion on an imperial stout, the pinnacle of the brewer's art, according to all those rating websites. Terra Nocturne is an 11.4% ABV example, aged 20 months in bourbon barrels. It seemed a little thin as it poured, finishing without much head, though densely black in colour. The aroma is roasty to the point of burnt, but enticing nonetheless, and there's a bit of marker-pen solvent in there too. I feared something severe, but the flavour is very nuanced, bringing hazelnut, chocolate, a little peat and some vanilla. The peat is an odd one, as only Maris Otter, crystal, black and brown malts are involved. I wonder is something microbial responsible for the phenols? It's no harm: the overall result is mellow and warming: a proper fireside-balloonglass job. Bourbon enthusiasts may be disappointed by the low bourbon quotient, but frankly they've had things their own way for long enough. 

What an adventure! This took about four weeks to assemble, and was a whole heap of fun. Although the beers aren't all perfect, there's more than enough to say Our Brewery has put itself on the map as one of this island's high-end barrel agers. I have no idea if any of it will ever get shelf space down in this jurisdiction, but I'm delighted that the Nordie beer scene has such a promising practitioner of the oaken arts in its midst. Keep 'er lit.