The house wins

My wife had arrived in Haarlem a few hours ahead of me and had been beer shopping. There was a bottle of Leffe Winter waiting for me in the room, still welcome despite the amount of Belgian beer I had had in the days previous. This 6.6% ABV job is a clear garnet colour, with an aroma of a little caramel and a lot of hot alcohol, almost at solvent levels. The flavour starts dry, like wholemeal crackers, then adds an intensifying fruitiness which eventually reaches the point of tasting like cheap cream sherry. There's a lot going on, and the texture is too thin to carry all of it. It tastes like it should feel big and warm, like the better and more rounded dark and wintery Belgian ales. At this strength and this level of thinness, it seems like it's all cut corners. Still, it's the thought that counts, right?

The first port of call the following day was the landmark Haarlem brewpub, the Jopenkerk. I was tempted by the promise of oddness in something described as a gin-and-tonic IPA: Disco Inferno, brewed with lime, cucumber, juniper and quinine, to 6.5% ABV. In the glass it's a perfect clear golden colour and has a very ungimmicky west-coast aroma of sticky pine resin and citrus zest. The cumber elbows in to the flavour, infusing the whole experience from start to finish, contrasting with both the citric hops and a heavier, oilier sort of citrus which I'm guessing is the lime. I didn't get the tonic element, though there's a slight pepperiness which I'm guessing is from subtle juniper. Overall it's clean and straightforward fun: still a well-made IPA that doesn't let the novelty get in the way of quality.

The dark beer beside it is a raspberry stout called Raspberry Beeret. Clunky enough pun for you? This is 8% ABV and very densely black. Heavy and serious roast makes up the bulk of the aroma, with a hint of chocolate raspberry creeping into the background. It does more than creep into the flavour. Fundamentally, there is a very good strong stout here, luxuriously creamy and packed with warm rich chocolate. The problem is the raspberry, which tastes chemical and artificial, like it was made in a lab by people who have never tasted a raspberry. That cheapens and nastys the whole picture, and it would be much better without it. Although I'm sure there are plenty of drinkers who wouldn't choose it without the promise of raspberry, alas.

There was enough on the menu to tempt us to a second round. I chose Let's Gose To The Beach, partly out of nostalgia for cringey attempts at gose puns that don't really work. I haven't seen one in a while. It's another cocktail beer, this time channelling a margarita. Other than the salt, which is quite prominent in the flavour, there's not much else margarita-like here. There's zest, but it's more orange than lime, yet not quite as concentratedly orange flavoured as triple sec. I can see what they're getting at, but it doesn't quite fly. Still, as a beer, it's very enjoyable, offering a mix of cleanly sweet and acidic citrus, plus the salt, bringing elements of the core gose spec that too many craft brewers don't bother with. And all in an easy-going 4% ABV package, perfect for day drinking, which is just as well.

That made for quite a contrast to the beer next to it: I'm a Barley Girl, an 11% ABV barley wine. There's a very unsubtle whisky-like heat from the aroma of this dark red affair, with a hint of dark autumnal fruit behind. It's very thick, and tastes as boozy as it smells, starting on bitter prune and grappa overtones. This softens after a moment to more of a Christmas cake effect, though still hitting the palate with a jolt of hard liquor on the side. While all the way through it's every bit as hotly alcoholic as it suggests it's going to be, it's also smooth and sippable, having been appropriately matured.

I was back in church the following Sunday and tried something called Phunk Phenomenel, intrigued by the name. It turned out that this is simply Jopen's flagship American-style IPA Mooie Nel, which I've always found highly enjoyable, with extra grapefruit added. Or at least that's what the brewery says. Where Nel is hazy and orange, this is a clear golden colour, and it's also slightly stronger at 6.8% ABV against Nel's 6.5%. I had been hoping from the name that it would be some way funky, but it's all zesty and juicy instead, and now I know why. Tangerine in the foretaste and pepper afterwards, say my notes, and if you combine those two characteristics, you do indeed get grapefruit. I liked its easy drinkability, avoiding any oily, resinous, hot or sharp notes. This is polished, in both appearance and taste. It could stand to be a bit more punchily bitter, but then quite a few contemporary IPAs could too, so that's not a real complaint. The name is misleading but the beer is very good.

Jopen may be part of the establishment on the Dutch scene these days, but there's still much to enjoy at their central Haarlem citadel.

I paid a brief visit to the town's hybrid Irish/craft bar, The Wolfhound, as they had a new house beer under their Thor's Cauldron brand, Aurum, another IPA. Here's another one that's a lagerish clear gold in appearance, although it's surprisingly sticky with that, all tinned lychee, pineapple and peaches in syrup. The aroma is gentler, but still quite tropical, suggesting cool ripe honeydew melon in particular. A spritz of citrus zest at the tail end of the flavour doesn't quite balance the sweetness, but it helps. As a house beer in a somewhat raucous rockers pub, this is much better than it needs to be, bringing in the juicy elements of hazy beer but with the clean profile of the west coast. I've no idea who brews it, but they're good at IPA.

The Wolfhound wasn't showing the rugby so I had to go to Tierney's to watch Ireland get a beating by the All Blacks. There's a house beer brand here too: The Stolen Bicycle Brewery, though again I don't know where the actual brewing for it is done.

I started on Robbin' Bastard, an IPA of 5% ABV which arrived in a nonic pint glass with a monstrously thick head. Double yuck. This was much more what I expect from a house beer, though the better sort. It's a workmanlike performance of American pale ale, with a classic grapefruit bitterness and dry tannins on the finish. There's a bit of a nod to modernity in the lacing of peach or even mango around the edge of the flavour. That's your lot, though. It doesn't taste cheaply made and there's nothing off about any of it, so presentation aside, it gets a pass.

So yes, I was chancing my arm when I switched to their red ale for the second half. What was I expecting to happen? Thievin' Fecker is a most un-Irish 5% ABV, a brownish red colour, and again presented as a "pint" with an unacceptably huge head. Flavour was difficult to find here, so at least there are marks for stylistic accuracy. There's a dry and grainy roasted element, and more of those dry tannins, better suited here than in the IPA, perhaps. The hops are a mere echo of flowers, but fully tokenistic. Like the malt, for that matter. I don't get what anyone sees in this style. Here's one that's proficiently and accurately made, and is still dull as a wet weekend in Cavan. But if you're hunting genuine-tasting Irish red in Haarlem, or Nijmegan where they also have a pub, Tierney's has you sorted.

The last lap brought us to Café de Gooth on Botermarkt, which claims to have its own brewery but I saw no sign of it on the premises, so I think we're in house beer rather than brewpub territory. There's a cartoon theme to the venue's branding, and they've adopted the cartoon saint Bonniefatius as the mascot for their beer.

St Bonniefatius Bock should by rights have been in the lovely, warming, malt-driven Dutch autumn bock style, and maybe it's meant to be, but it's not. Instead of burnished chestnut, this 6%-er is a murky brown, and tastes murky with it. A dry roast starts the flavour off inoffensively but it degrades quickly into a greasy and thick mess, all hot and estery, like a homebrewed attempt at Belgian abbey ale that went wrong. Throw in some autolytic Bovril beefiness, double down on the dryness until it's acrid, then sprinkle with clove, and you have the complete picture. It's a cavalcade of amateur off-flavours, so we can definitely rule out it being a rebadged industrial beer. This has been lovingly produced on a small brewing kit by someone who didn't know what they were doing.

So naturally I followed it up with the beer advertised as being bright green. Levenselixir, they've named it, referencing, but not too closely, the knock-off Obelix character who is the café mascot. I could certainly use some strengthening magic potion after the previous beer. It's 6.5% ABV and is exactly as luridly green as the posters show it. Before the food colouring went in, I'm guessing it was a very pale pale ale. There's a haze as well, and the aroma is on the cusp of citrus and tropical. The impression switches styles on tasting, from pale ale to witbier, with its soft texture and lemony foretaste followed by a coriander bitterness. The lemon becomes a little more assertive in the flavour towards the finish, almost swinging us back towards pale ale, though I would still be prepared to believe that this is just coloured Hoegaarden, were it not for the whopping 6.5% ABV strength. Still, it doesn't taste at all like it came from the same brewery as the last one.

And so, with more questions than answers, I left the Low Countries once more. Even though I visit a lot, I never fail to find plenty of interest, and so easy to get around too. If you've not had the pleasure, get Belgium and the Netherlands on your beer travel list for 2025.