Encroaching darkness

Now that we're properly into winter, I get to look at some of this season's new release stouts. It's called journalism; look it up.

First, we have the return of a beer series from days of yore: Lublin to Dublin. This is a collaboration between Polish brewery Pinta (not in Lublin) with Irish brewery O'Hara's (not in Dublin) and was an annual release stout during the last decade. For the re-up it's a nitro-canned coffee stout and 5% ABV. The nitro works well for the visuals, providing a flat-topped crema over the dense black-brown liquid. For all that nitrogenation deadens aroma, there's a good waft of coffee, all fresh and sweet and oily. The texture is smooth to the point of flat, and the flavour doesn't quite bring the coffee suggested by the aroma. It's sweet and creamy, causing me to check the ingredients for the presence of lactose, but oatmeal seems to be the sole party responsible. Then there's a strange savoury tang in the middle of the flavour: slightly stale and sweaty, with a mineral bitterness, almost sour, meeting the dark grain's sharp roasted edge. I thought this was going to be quite a cuddly beer, but it turns harsh very quickly. I took my time over it but didn't find it softening as it went along. Normally I'm fine with the more serious and grown-up sort of stouts. This, though, didn't sit well. I think it's the disconnect between the joyful coffee-cream aroma and a much sterner flavour. Try to avoid that if you can, brewers.

The Winter Seasonal 2024 from Hope is an Export Stout, and a proper one, with 7.5% ABV and 48 IBUs. It's a very dense black in the glass, with a thin but persistent head. I thought I was in for a bitter one, but it's very chocolatey, set on a surprisingly light body. Though the hops are low-key, it's still good, and has enough character to justify the "export" label while also being accessible and easy-going, having much in common with the lighter sort of session-strength stout. There's an almost wine-like dark fruit leading on from the chocolate, with an accompanying heat. Beyond that, I don't have much else to say: it's enjoyable, in an unchallenging sort of way. If it weren't for that ABV, I could have happily had a few of these in sequence.

Also very much designed with the season in mind is Winterland 2024 from Kinnegar. They've changed the concept again, this year giving us a Salted Chocolate Stout of 7% ABV. There's a slightly Christmassy spiced wine effect from the aroma: mature grape tannins and a dusting of oregano or rosemary. It's fizzier than I would have expected given the style and strength, but does get properly creamy when allowed to flatten out. The chocolate is immediately perceptible in the flavour as the dark and crumbly sort, classy and probably expensive. The bitterness from that segues into a different kind: green and sharp, like cabbage leaf or cooked spinach. I had forgotten about the salt, but it makes an appearance at the very end, just a gentle kiss of salinity, right on the lips. I liked this. Anyone who thinks they're getting a box of Milk Tray in a can will be in for a shock because it's serious stuff: grown-up tasting, but delicious.

Possibly the first smoked stout I ever encountered was the one called simply Imperial, brewed by Cuilán Loughnane during his tenure at Messrs Maguire. It was light-bodied and drinkable, despite being 7% ABV and loaded with peated malt. Ever since, that's what comes to mind when I see the words "smoked stout", though few live up to it. I was ready to try again when I saw Galway Bay had collaborated on a smoked stout brewed by Czech brewery Sibeeria. Tourist Triangle is only 4.2% ABV, however, and the smoke is subtle to the point of invisibility. The aroma is largely caramel or treacle, smelling more like a Czech tmavý lager than an Irish stout. Its flavour, too, is mostly quite sweet, though the caramel is joined by both a burnt-toast roasted grain element and a faint lacing of savoury smoke. I'm not sure I would have identified this had I not been expecting it, although it does build on the palate as the pint goes down, leaving an ashen residue by the end. While it's certainly not kippery or phenolic, this doesn't quite suit me. Mostly I would like more of the smoke -- a bit of barbecue char or meaty umami -- but my main issue is that caramel sweet side, something I associate with breweries that haven't quite got the hang of stout. Maybe the dryness from the smoked malt was supposed to balance that out, but it doesn't: both sit as parallel tracks in a flavour profile that would benefit from better integration.

The archaeology-themed barrel-aged imperial stouts from Lough Gill are also back for another round. This year the newcomer is Oseberg, named for its fermentation with kveik, though the barrels were also an unusual choice: Palo Cortado sherry. I don't think it quite worked. The base beer is a tad characterless, with little more to offer than a basic milk chocolate flavour. Maybe the idea is to keep things simple to let the barrel complexity do the heavy lifting, but perhaps because it's a wine cask rather than a spirit one, the barrel part of the flavour is also low. There is merely a wisp of raisin and prune flavour, but a whole honking amount of booze heat with it. It's 13.4% ABV, so a certain amount of flame is expected, but this has passed well beyond warming and into hot, lacking any mature mellowness. While the beer isn't flawed as such, it's not the equal of the others in the series. Oseberg doesn't need to be back next year.

That was a surprise: Lough Gill doesn't usually put a foot wrong in the strong-and-dark arena. Kinnegar and Hope are still nailing it, though, and I would like to see much more by way of black beer from the latter.