End of

Oof. I'm glad I'm not in the business of making predictions, because the things I merely hoped for in this post last year did not work out. No, don't go and check; let's leave 2024 in the rear view mirror, with 2025 now ready to join it.

It's time to run through the highlights of the year just gone in the time-honoured (17 years!) fashion. My trusty assistant for the work at hand is Brewers At Play 48 from Kinnegar. It's a 10% ABV barley wine so should be up to the task. It's as viscous as one might expect, pouring slowly and forming a thick puck of cream-coloured foam over a murky mahogany-red body. The aroma combines bready malt warmth with some summery fruit: cherry and red grape in particular, a reminder that the style was named for its mimicry of wine. It opens with a bitter, herbal bite, something like a brightly-coloured Italian aperitif, with a hint of oak vanilla too, even though it hasn't seen the inside of any barrels. That settles but never quite goes away, while the fruit from the aroma makes a return, forming the centre of the flavour. The brewery says plum, and I get that, but I think it's more intense, suggesting damson, blackcurrant and raisin. Towards the end there's some pepper and nutmeg spicing, meaning there's a very decent degree of complexity on offer here. Coupled with the heavy texture, it's a sipper for sure. That's copperfastened by a growing warmth as it progresses. You don't need me to tell you this is a beer to take time over, and there's lots to explore and ponder. But I have a different sort of pondering to do. 

And so, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats and pray silence for...

The Golden Pint Awards 2025

Best Irish Cask Beer: Otterbank: The Magic Road 
It hasn't been a bad year for Irish cask, with Lough Gill and Brehon Brewhouse joining Hopkins & Hopkins in the rotational cask selection at Dublin's Porterhouse branches. The winner comes from a festival, however: Belfast, last month. Otterbank presented The Magic Road as a strawberry sour beer but there's was much more happening than that short description conveys.

Best Irish Keg Beer: Wide Street: Cuvée Spontanée
This could also have been a cask contender, though was a little green when first presented, at the Mullingar Wild Beer Festival in April. By Hagstravaganza four months later, it shone on keg, delivering by-the-numbers classic oude geuze flavours.

Best Irish Bottled Beer: Rye River: Grafters Nightshift
Dunnes Stores takes a gamble on the American-style brown ale that Rye River previously supplied to Lidl. I hope it stays here longer, because the combination of brightly floral hop fun with indulgent chocolate is rather special, while the teeny price tag is almost unique for a beer of this quality. Please do your bit to keep it on order at Dunnes. A very honourable mention goes to WhiteField for their joyously no-nonsense Irish Stout.

Best Irish Canned Beer: Lough Gill: North Star
Unsurprisingly, there were lots of contenders for this one. Lineman cornered the market for hop-forward styles, Third Barrel aced the lagers, but Lough Gill continues to reign supreme in imperial stouts, and gave us a dizzying array to choose from. Sherry-aged Solera was a strong contender, but the one with the Christmas spices -- crucially, not overdone -- was my top preference.

Best Overseas Draught Beer: 't Pomphuizeke: Peper Lambiek
Preference is an important factor in these awards. I'm not saying that the spiced lambic from a Belgian brewery I'd never heard of was the best overseas draught beer by any objective measure, but it's very much the sort thing I like, and enjoy finding when it's done well. This one, from this year's Borefts Beer Festival, goes full-on novelty while still retaining its core lambic character. Superb.

Best Overseas Bottled Beer: Tommie Sjef: Flint
More sour beer from the same festival. No gimmicks here, just spontaneously fermented and barrel-aged flavours, exactly the way I like them. A reminder that lambic, and lambic-a-likes, don't necessarily need spices to taste spicy.

Best Overseas Canned Beer: Dois Corvos: Magnetic Poles
The Portuguese brewery puts a dent in my theory that classic lager styles are best not given wacky, craft-era, recipe twists, with this tonka'd up Baltic Porter. What if tonka, but just the right amount? This is the first beer I've ever encountered that's done that.

Best Collaboration Brew: DankHouse and De Molen: Dank & Dutchies
Is it just my imagination or did black IPA have a wee bit of a resurgence this year? Not much, but it seemed noticeable. Not all of them were great, but this collaboration for Borefts was everything the style ought to be, which is a near guarantee of an award from me. 

Best Overall Beer: Cuvée Spontanée
One does not simply walk into the brewhouse and begin making beer like this. Wide Street's abundant enthusiasm for the style and years of honing its processes has paid off handsomely, and I think that deserves recognition. In place of proper recognition, however, I can offer only this meaningless plaudit. Bottled Cuvée Spontanée is out and about at the moment, and deserves to be snapped up.

Best Branding: Wicklow Wolf
I've long been a fan of the way Wicklow Wolf presents itself, and there have been some lovely variants on its consistent house style this year. The contrasting colours on the tap badges for Pacific Heights and Cliff Walk looked striking side-by-side at Tapped back in April, while the glow-in-the-dark Halloween label and the Troy Parrott football celebration lager showed a wonderful sense of fun.

Best Pump Clip: Galway Bay: Forbidden Cats
More fun from Galway Bay too. Rock on, racoon!

Best Bottle/Can Label: Hopfully: Snowboard
For the second year on the trot, the best label goes to a beer I haven't published a review of yet. This was the work of Laurynas Butkus, a student at the National College of Art & Design. I loved the geometry and economy of the picture. I hope we'll be seeing more of his work on future Hopfully beers. And indeed, more named artists on beer label smallprint generally.

Best Irish Brewery: Lough Gill
I've never gone back to count the number of Golden Pints that Francesco Sottomano is responsible for throughout his years at various Irish microbreweries, but I bet it's a few. This year he has been absolutely killing it at Lough Gill across a range of styles and formats. I hope the team up in Sligo enjoys making the beers as much as I enjoy drinking them; they have a lot to be proud of. 

Best Overseas Brewery: Hill Farmstead
This award is on the strength of only three beers (one of them, yes, at Borefts) but they confirmed my conviction that Hill Farmstead is not a brewery whose beers one passes by when they're available. Their output is quite different to how European breweries do the whole wild beer thing, but if there are more operators like this in the US, please send those our way too.

Best New Brewery Opening 2025: Priory
It's a re-opening rather than an opening -- the kit in Tallaght hasn't moved an inch since it was installed in 2017, but this year it exited an extended Covid-era suspension and began brewing again for its new onsite taproom and tank bar at the Priory Market food court. The beers have largely been excellent too, with particular shouts-out for the Helles and stout.

Pub/Bar of the Year: La Fleur en Papier Doré
Another welcome back to a long-closed establishment. I was delighted to be able to enjoy a beer at this Brussels icon back in the spring, making it my favourite pub experience of the year.

Best New Pub/Bar Opening 2025: Daphni
A tough category, with openings of good beer outlets very much in negative growth around here -- RIP UnderDog. The new bar from Animal Collective, at Bolands Mills, wins by default, though I was genuinely impressed, by both its beer offer, and the setting: it's the sort of high quality renovation of an old industrial site that we don't see enough of in Dublin.  

Beer Festival of the Year: Borefts
It supplied three of the award winners above, so it shouldn't be a surprise that De Molen's festival gets this prize again. Third year running, but last year ever, following the brewery's closure in September. The field is open for 2026.

Supermarket of the Year: SuperValu Sundrive
The era of specialty beer being one of the front lines in the endless War of the Supermarkets is long over, but nobody seems to have told my local SuperValu. It continues to stock a first-rate range of core beers from Irish breweries, as well as solid classics from Belgium, the UK and further afield.

Independent Retailer of the Year: Martin's of Fairview
I only trekked up to the far distant northside on a couple of occasions this year, but I came away both times with beers I hadn't expected to find, or didn't know existed. Add in their fondness for commissioning special beers from local breweries, and you have everything you want from a neighbourhood offy. If only it were in my neighbourhood.

Online Retailer of the Year: Craft Central
Four years running. I'm not even going to pretend there's anyone else in contention. I click the beers, I pick them up, and the rest of this blog flows from there, by and large.

Best Beer Book or Magazine: Filthy Queens
It's the battle of the books this year, with two works of beer history, taking very different approaches. Kudos must go to Martyn Cornell's monumental Porter & Stout: A Complete History. It was a slog to read, but even before I finished it, I was using it as a reference resource. It will stand for the ages, and double-fastens the author's legacy. Christina wins on narrative grounds, however. Her book is one of people and their stories, rather than cold numbers and diagrams. It's an account of the real lives lived by the people -- mostly women, it must be said -- who brewed and sold Ireland's beer down through the ages. There has not been a beer book like it.

Best Beer Blog or Website: The Drunken Destrier
I had this flagged for greatness since the spring, but the flurry of entertaining beer reviews petered out in late May. In the hope of some revived activity -- I mean, how hard is it to drink a beer and write down what it tastes like? -- I'm slinging a Golden Pint in Kill's direction.

Simon Johnson Award for Best Beer Twitterer: barmas.bsky.social
Yeah, it's mostly for the dog pictures, but you knew that.

Best Brewery Website/Social media: Rye River
This was the year that I made a firm and final break with Twitter, in favour of doing much the same sort of timewasting on Bluesky instead. Like the media outlets I used to follow, not many breweries have made the switch, but Rye River have, and regularly post their beer news and other fun stuff from around the brewery. I'm hoping to see more of my favourite producers posting to The Nice Place in 2026.


And with that, the awards table is empty for another year. Thanks for reading in 2025, and here's to more award-worthy beer in the year to come.

The Christmas menu

I hadn't noticed before that Wetherspoon publishes a quarterly leaflet of its upcoming seasonal rotational beers. Maybe it's a new practice, but it's great for us tickers. In the run-up to Christmas, I did some hunting around the Dublin branches for the late 2025 offerings.

That started with the appropriate Winter Draws On, by Brewsters. It's only 4% ABV and promises citrus and spice, so is one of those English winter ales. Still, it looks cosy with its warm copper glow. The citrus manifests as dried peel, like fruitcake mix without any of the actual cake. Complementing the lightly fruity bitterness is a tea-like dryness, adding a refreshment quality that isn't very seasonal but is very pleasant. This is a clean, characterful and well-balanced session beer, exactly the sort of thing that I associate with Brewsters. Your cockles won't be warmed but your thirst will be slaked.

A rare visit to The South Strand brought me Evil Elf by Rudgate. I would be quite willing to bet that this golden ale appears under a different name during the summer, because it has a very sunny disposition. Zesty, and slightly oily, lemon forms the aroma and continues in the foretaste. It's not bitter, however, tasting more like lemon candy than actual citrus fruit. The sweet side grows gradually, adding notes of honey and golden syrup. It verges on sticky but its modest 4% ABV keeps it on the right side of drinkable. This is solidly made and devoid of seasonal daftness. There's no way any sensible brewery would only roll out such a straightforwardly enjoyable recipe at Christmas.

Advent Ale is from Titanic, the brewery abandoning its sinking ship theme for the season of goodwill. This 4.6%-er is a medium gold in the glass and smells sweetly spicy, hinting at clove and nutmeg. Those spicy oils are present in the flavour but pleasingly low-balled, hinting at their presence but not the beer's whole thing. Unfortunately, the beer doesn't have a whole thing, its base tasting to me like a rather plain blonde ale: honey-sweet, gently floral, but otherwise nondescript. I guess Christmas beer doesn't have to be dark and strong, though at the same time I don't really get the point of doing them pale and light, except there's presumably a market for them. File this inoffensive chap with the other cod-seasonals, made for spring rugby and... actually, is that the only other time English breweries make lacklustre tie-in beers? Answers in the comments.

So far, so sessionable, but where are those big winter warmers? Otter's Otter Claus brings us all the way up to 5% ABV and is a wholesome-looking dark amber colour. Alas, it doesn't go anywhere special in the flavour, being the same as any number of malt forward, medium-dark, strong bitters. To wit, there's toffee, black tea, burnt caramel and a token measure of orange peel and meadow flowers from distinctly English hops. It reminds me a bit of Wetherspoon staple Abbot Ale but is much more enjoyable; lighter on the caramel and more drinkable as a result. It left me feeling a bit stiffed on Christmas vibes, but it's a decent beer. While it may be a brown bitter, I don't think it can be accused of being twiggy or boring. For €2.60 the pint, I have little to complain about here.

It's not all red suits and reindeer in the seasonal offerings. I also had my second encounter with the Bateman's sub-brand Salem, and their Dark Fruits porter. It's actually surprising that more cask breweries aren't taking a pop at Titanic's Plum Porter market share. I didn't get to try them side by side, but I deem this a worthy adversary. The berries are very prominent in the flavour, a jammy damson and cherry effect with just the right amount of restraint on the sweet side and a mild blackcurrant tartness. In proper Titanic style, the base is velvety smooth with oodles of creamy milk chocolate. The depth and roundness of its texture is especially impressive, given it's only 4.6% ABV. Mouthfeel for days. My one pint wasn't long being sunk, and while I'm not sure that a second would have been as enjoyable, in other circumstances I would have been quite prepared to try it. Quality stuff, this, and I say that as a fruit porter sceptic.

Ramping up the strength and the blackness, next is Hammerhead Stout by Nottinghamshire brewery Milestone. This is a very full 5.6% ABV and promises "a bite" on the clip. It arrived looking handsome: fully black with a thick pillow of foam and a dome of loose bubbles over the top. It's exactly the appearance Draught Guinness was invented to reproduce but never will. The aroma, however, is in the Guinness zone, being rather vague, just toasted grain and a mild metallic bittering. From that, the flavour was a surprise, opening up a ribbon-wrapped box of milk chocolates, adding a light smattering of latte coffee, butterscotch and vanilla, with a subtle dry charcoal note on the end for balance. I was impressed by the contrast between aroma and flavour: it smells almost acrid but is smooth and sumptuous to drink. While not exactly complex, it's perfectly balanced and wonderfully drinkable. In a less festive mood I might be inclined to complain that the ABV is excessive, but I'm willing to let that go because I'm sure the heft is a major part of its classy, understated gameplan. For me, this hit the same spots as Irish stout classics Leann Folláin and Nocturne, with bonus cask silk. At time of drinking I had recently finished reading Martyn Cornell's epic history of porter, and this beer fitted the hyperbolic descriptions that 18th and 19th century writers used when describing good product. I hope this isn't just a Christmas beer. It belongs on the bar year-round.

In summary, I think the breweries could have done better here. Light and pale just doesn't do it for me at midwinter. I was very glad to find at least some level of darkness in the selection. It would have been a wash-out without them.

Family reunion

Alas, I haven't yet been out to the new(ish) O Brother taproom in Wicklow. Its creation is the reason they've given for the reduced number of new release beers of late. Some sort of normality seems to be returning, however, as here's three of them.

A saison starts us off, very much an under-served style among Irish brewers. Year of Plenty is 5.8% ABV and a mostly-clear gold, given just a dusting of haze. Not much is given away in the aroma, just dry husky grain and a little sweet fruit ester for a hint of honeydew. That's all fair for ordinary decent saison, and the flavour is too. Chopped apple and dried apricot represent the fruit, while clove and white pepper add some fun Belgian seasoning to that. Throw on a dry wheaty base, and that's saison, ladies and gentlemen: what else could you want? This is heftier than your classic saison from Belgium, and ordinarily the stronger sort doesn't appeal to me as much, but this one has a more piquant spicing than other hot and flabby versions I've tasted. That gives it an extra drinkability, not cancelling out the thicker sweet side, but making it more enjoyable. Non-typical takes on saison aren't normally my thing; this one manages to pull in the good bits of the archetypes and adds only worthwhile extra features. Very nicely done.

Next, My Mortal Soul is a Märzen. It's a strong one at 6.1% ABV, and dark too: well into the amber end of the spectrum, like the sticky Oktoberfestbier preferred by American breweries. On top of that was a short-lived head of big loose bubbles, and there's a concomitant lack of fizz. Many an ale would benefit from the gentle sparkle presented here, but a German-style lager, not so much. That does also mean it's overly heavy. I don't mind a bit of chewing in a strong lager but there should be a balancing crispness when one chooses that route, and this is just a little too syrupy. It does at least use that density to pile in lots of fun flavours while avoiding the cloying heat of the, er, cheaper sort of strong lager. Summer fruit sits up front, a jammy smear of strawberry and red cherry. That contrasts with a significant hop bitterness, typically herbal in the German way, with some zinc to go with the spinach and celery. It's flawed, but I liked it. This beer's heart is in the right place and it delivers a pleasing amount of complexity, even if it's closer (I reckon) to a pale bock than Märzen. Serve in your tall Prussian sipping glass, not the hearty Bavarian mug.

Only one IPA in the set? That's refreshing. Silent Roar is a 6% ABV example, badged as "tropical" and mostly smelling it too, though there's a hint of savoury onion alongside the sweetly colourful Lilt aroma. It's on the thin side for that strength, and the flavour, while pleasant, isn't especially strong. I expected rather more oomph. I mean, it does do tropical. There is mango and pineapple and all that jazz -- add some ripe pear and orange pith for extra fun -- but where modern IPAs tend to lay these on thick and juicy (when they get it right), here it's at a remove, more like the flavouring of a fizzy drink than anything freshly squeezed, or squeezed at all. I'm being overly fussy, however. This is bright and genuinely refreshing, and while I expected a certain seriousness from the strength (and the rather po-faced name), I thoroughly enjoyed the fruity frivolity on offer. I'd chance a pint, no problem.

They may not have included the customary double IPA in their recent output (unless I missed it), but O Brother hasn't suffered any decline in their usual high standards from the brewery move. When the days get brighter I'll venture out there.

A welcome disruption

Non-alcoholic beer gets the occasional bit of coverage on here, though I tend to find very few which perform the role required of a beer. Pale ales, wheat beers and lagers seem to be the preferred styles, which may be the problem. I've often said that dark styles make for better alcohol-free beer, my favourite to date being Švyturys Go Juodas, and the Guinness one is pretty decent too. The latter's success has provided an opportunity for other breweries to get in on the 0.0 stout racket, and the first I've seen locally is Dundalk Bay's Zero Zero Nitro Stout, available in Aldi.

It's in a widget can and pours well, the head forming and staying in place as it should. Nitro here doesn't mean an absence of aroma, and there's quite a pungent roastiness: thick coffee, made a little Turkish with cardamom and nutmeg. Guinness adds fructose sugar to its 0.0 on the grounds that there isn't enough flavour in the base grains. Maybe that's a quirk of the Guinness recipe, because this is all-malt (barley and wheat) and there's no lack of flavour. It's very bitter, mixing dark toast with savoury herbs, the intensity turning almost metallic by the end. A little chocolate or mocha sweetness creeps in as it warms and helps soften the experience. The texture is where it falls down most, however: although there's a certain creamy aspect because of the nitrogen smoothness, it's inescapably thin, with a disappointing watery quality in the finish. Maybe this is where bulking-up with a non-fermentable sugar might have helped.

Overall, though, it's impressive stuff. Dundalk Bay does good stouts in general, and they seem to have brought some of that acumen to this one. It's boldly flavoured and tastes like a big and bitter old-fashioned stout. My theory holds up. Now, who else wants to give this style a go?

Chillax

I think this is a first for me: enough winter specials from Ireland's breweries to warrant a round-up post. Put on a cosy cardigan, light the fire, open a box of luxury seasonal clichés, and let's see how they stack up.

First out of the selection box is Vinternatt, brewed by Galway Bay but with the assistance of Bådin, for some Arctic authenticity. It's 6% ABV and brewed with orange peel and cinnamon, pouring a handsome and wholesome dark ruby. I feel the hygge just looking at it. The fruit and spice are to the fore in its aroma, conjuring the season admirably, smelling like a warm kitchen as the Christmas baking is happening. Although it's the lightest beer in our set, the texture is nicely rounded, and while there's no real heat, it's full and filling. The nine different types of malt are where that body comes from but they don't contribute much to the flavour directly. We're told the base is a Scotch ale recipe and to expect toffee, but I didn't get that. We have the orange and cinnamon at the front again, as in the aroma, though I'll note that they're relatively subtle -- I'm thankful in particular that the cinnamon isn't a foghorn blast of raw sticks, as found in too many Christmas beers. After this there's a old-world bitterness, earthy and vegetal, but again balanced and relatively understated. And that's pretty much it; a quick finish and no aftertaste. Seekers after novelty might be a bit miffed by how calm it all is, but it works, with the body being its best feature, something entirely appropriate to a winter warmer. Hooray for subtlety.

Kinnegar's answer to the season is a new version of their Winterland stout, this year's being 7% ABV with added vanilla and hazelnut. Though the pour was lively, it settled after a moment to a shiny black with a stable tobacco-stain head. The hazelnut has control of the aroma, which is dry and woody. So there's quite a turnaround when the flavour is powerfully sweet, the vanilla laid on thick and custard-creamy. I can't really find the hazelnut element in this, but there is a dry side: a dark coffee roast from the very fine stout at the base. As well as the coffee, there's dark chocolate, summer fruit, rose petals and herbal liqueur; all things that make strong stout worthwhile. If anything, the honking vanilla is a distraction and doesn't really add anything positive. The beer would taste just as delightfully wintery without it. Combining the vanilla and burnt-caramel element gives it a crème brûlée feel, and if that's the sort of thing that makes your Christmas, have at it. It left me hankering for more of the serious roast, heat and bitterness, however. Dessert can wait.

Happy tenth birthday to Dungarvan's Gallows Hill barley wine, originally featured here on Christmas Eve 2015. Now they've produced a barrel-aged version, matured in ex-bourbon Irish whiskey casks from Great Northern, raising the ABV from 8.5% to 10%. Last time I dinged it for being too hot, but this version isn't, I'm happy to say. Dark fruit and spicy fresh oak present an alluring aroma, while the foretaste leaves no doubt that bourbon was used in its production. It has that sour lime character of many American whiskeys, balanced by sweeter vanilla. The finish is dry and a little splintery, but not excessively so. All that made it difficult to find the beer in the equation. The raisin and prune effect from the aroma does appear in the flavour but elides somewhat with the spirit: those are valid whiskey flavours too, and at first I couldn't be entirely sure that they were brought here by the beer. They sit embedded in a bread or fruitcake malt base that took me a while to spot, but is its own form of sweetness, separate to the vanilla, and very much a beer thing. And while it's not hot in the marker-pen-phenol way, there's a definite warmth to this, one which is felt more than tasted. You will need to enjoy, or at least tolerate, bourbon in order to appreciate it, and if that's not a problem you'll find a beautifully mellow sipping beer. It may not have Santy on the label, but it's the epitome of wintertime beery enjoyment. A half-litre at a time? That's a full Christmas film of your choice.

Lough Gill takes us out, with a late addition to their winter 2025 range, one which hadn't yet appeared when I covered the bulk of them last month. It's called North Star (unfondly remembered as the name of a misconceived Guinness brand extension back in 2006) and is another of their barrel-aged imperial stouts, Christmassed up with a maroon label and the addition of cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla and cocoa. Ulp. That suggests an absolute mess, but they have integrated the disparate elements beautifully, creating a confection which tastes of chocolate, marzipan, gingerbread and cherry liqueur. Even though it's a whopping 12.6% ABV, and has the sticky, unctuous texture to go with that, it's a beer of nuance and balance, keeping its syrupy dark sugar clean and accessible, while the candy and spice enhancements are, if not subtle, at least appropriate to the broad flavour profile. Above all, it tastes mature, the ingredients fully complementary to each other, with everything playing its part and not seeking to dominate the others. I had mostly finished it when I remembered the barrel ageing. As usual, Boann whiskey barrels have been employed, but it doesn't taste especially barrelly. I guess once you add vanilla you're going to lose any vanillin subtlety from the casks. No matter. This is gorgeous, and the perfect Christmas season beer to go out on. Trust Lough Gill to deliver.

Well, we're heading into the sharp end of the Christmas period now. If you have access to any of the above, they're all well suited to what the season has in store. Lough Gill's is the one for your quiet moment away from all the heat and noise, however.

The eternal October

We go back to the tail end of October for the beginning of today's post. I had gone in search of the Oktoberfestbier from Hopkins & Hopkins which had been on tap at The Porterhouse, only to run out as soon as I ordered a pint. As an alternative, I picked the unOktoberfest Weissbier Spezial Edition by Hofbräuhaus Traunstein, a 5.4% ABV weizen. What makes it Spezial? Not the strength, particularly, but it's the dark ochre of Schneider's classic, so maybe I was in for a bit of roast. The aroma didn't suggest this, leading on concentrated banana. The roast did arrive in the flavour, however. Typical banana kicks things off, but quickly gives way, first to even sweeter caramel before it all gets cleaned up by a dry bite. A bitterer green banana effect adds acidity to the finish, and that's it done.

"Special" is maybe going a bit far, but it's a very decent take on weissbier. There's lots of the style's distinctive features, though not too much fruit, caramel, or alcohol heat. You do need to be OK with banana, and not go looking for clove phenols, to enjoy it. While this wasn't a substitute for the Festbier I wanted, I was happy to stumble across it regardless.

It was over a month later that the beer gods smiled upon me and H&H's Hopburgh Festbier (as the badge had it; it's "Oktoberfest" bottled) appeared at The Porterhouse's cooler younger sibling, Tapped. Pint please. The serving, in a Peroni-style sleeve glass, didn't really suit it but I could still see it's a deep rose gold, with perfect clarity. This is the full 5.8% ABV and shows a spectacular malt richness, right from the first sniff. Sweet and cakey melanoidins contrast with a noble hop intensity which goes beyond lettuce and celery, towards harsh burnt plastic. With a thinner beer, that could be a problem. Not here though. Malt is the dominant feature, and I don't know that the brewery does decoction mashing, but this has that bread-and-treacle depth of flavour. However it's done, it's marvellous, managing to be at once chewy and süffig while also sinkable and refreshing. The only thing missing was a handled glass from which to chug it. Worth waiting for, as the fella in Alexandria had it.

While we're on Irish-brewed German beer styles at The Porterhouse, an Altbier by Wide Street showed up at the Temple Bar branch in late November. Altstadt is 4.6% ABV and a dark mahogany red. It smells sweet, of bourbon biscuit and milk chocolate. That's one side of its flavour, but roast is the main one: a clean crispness, brushed with dark toast crumbs. The cookies arrive after that, followed by a green noble hop bitterness and a red fruit sweetness, adding a pinch of raspberry and cherry colour. I took my time over it, worth doing as it's a subtle beer which benefits from being given the opportunity to unfold. I should note that the brewery would like us to know that the grain bill includes rye for extra spice, but I can't say I tasted that. Regardless, it's an excellent Alt, offering the classic dark lager combination of clean drinkability with all the characterful dark malt flavour.

It's not for me to say that breweries in Dublin and Longford are doing a better job of German style beers than the Bavarians. This representative sample merely suggests that the hypothesis merits further investigation.

White wine and coffee. Or not

It's a swift couple of new beers from Third Barrel today, beginning with an IPA called Mojo Rising. The headline hops are Strata and Enigma, with a promise of tropical fruit and white wine effects. Before that, however, there was the ordeal of pouring, with lots of foam to deal with, and a dreggy murk which had settled to the bottom of the can, providing an unwelcome late addition. Still, I can't argue with "tropical" as a descriptor of the aroma: it's quite a fruit salad, suggesting pineapple and peaches in syrup. The flavour has a lot of that sweet side too, though is a little more old-world, with red apple and mandarin orange entering the picture. The dregs make their presence felt to an extent, adding a dry and gritty rasp that doesn't subsume the fruit side, but doesn't add anything positive either. There's a lot of the hazy stereotype going on here, with no bitterness and a big pillowy body to carry the juice, alongside a degree of vanilla. For the most part it's fine, if unexciting. The white wine element never materialised and it's completely lacking any crispness, which I'm guessing ought to be a part of that. Oh well. 6% ABV gives it plenty of bang regardless, and it is a genuinely fun beer to drink, piling in all the juicy hops that any haze-lover could want. It's nothing out of the ordinary, though. Don't expect the doors of perception to swing open after drinking one.

The other beer is House Blend, an imperial stout with chocolate, coffee, vanilla and cinnamon, and it's nice to see one of the simple and classy Third Barrel label designs of yesteryear, instead of a smeary AI cartoon. The aroma is ungimmicky, with hints of chocolate and coffee, though staying within the levels at which one might find these features in a straight stout. Its texture is beautifully silky, and it was a surprise to find the ABV a lightweight 8.5%: it tastes several points higher than this. The flavour is, of course, dessert-like, and I get banana mixed in with the initial chocolate. I didn't get much coffee; that seems to have elided with the chocolate to give it an affogato character, rather than any separate roast beans or oils. The vanilla and cinnamon arrive together in the finish, topping off the dessert qualities with a gooey, creamy, pastry confection effect.

I wanted to like this but it's a bit too gimmicky for me. I felt it needed some balance, be that drier coffee roast or some chilli spicing. Despite that low ABV it still turned out cloying, and lacks the warmth which can sometimes add a layer of charm to otherwise overly sweet stouts. Everything here is as advertised, and doubtless there are drinkers who will enjoy its sticky stylings. For me, it needed either further restraint and a move towards classic imperial stout, or an all-out tiramisu-laden calorific booze-fest. The middle ground just isn't as enjoyable.

On this showing, Third Barrel seems to be trying to make types of beer that are popular, but dialling back their essential attributes for the Irish market. Are we that cautious as a nation of beer drinkers? Both of these were well-made, yet lacked the full-colour HD 3D effect with which brewers abroad seem to imbue such efforts. Third Barrel is very much an asset for Dublin's beer scene, but I don't think this pair of releases were quite of international standard. More booze would probably help, for starters.

Q4 results

Today I'm wrapping up my coverage of Open Gate Brewery's 2025 output, with the late autumn and winter offerings from Diageo's Dublin microbrewery at St James's Gate. 

Marking Halloween, presumably, they produced a pumpkin-spice beer, with no actual pumpkin, called Spicy Friars. The latter part of the name is because the beer is based on Smithwick's, albeit at a much higher gravity than that flagship red ale, finishing at 6.2% ABV. It's a clear dark garnet colour, so darker than Smithwick's too, I'd say. The menu tells us that nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom and apple have been added, though one of these completely dominates the others. The aroma is like warm Christmas cookies, huge on cinnamon, plus what I perceived as a menthol effect, however that was generated. Unsurprisingly, that's all the flavour does too, leaving little room for any beer character. While it's quite sweet, there's a tannic finish that helps dry it out, and as long as you can tolerate the exceedingly unsubtle spice, it's not a bad beer. I noted they hadn't given it a Halloweenish name, and couldn't help wondering if the intent was to migrate it seemlessly into being a Christmas seasonal. That would work, though it was gone from the taps before the tree went up.

In the half-pint beside it, Dublin DIPA. I guess the name is meant to be a pun on "double"? It's 7.5% ABV, murky ochre in colour, and very typical of the sort of IPA Open Gate tends to produce. That is to say, it's really not very good. Instead of bright and fresh hops, the flavour is muddy and imprecise. Gloopy lemon curd and chemical perfume leads to a slightly toasted finish which doesn't belong in the style. There's no bite to it, and neither west-coast sharpness nor east-coast softness. Just like the Nitro IPA and Citra IPA produced at the big plant across the street, this tastes overly processed and industrial, though I suspect that the hop-killing Guinness yeast may be the real culprit. It's a disappointment, but at least it's a predictable one.

I'm not usually a fan of the various stouts that the brewery produces, but they hit me just right with the Pistachio Choco Stout which arrived at the same time as the above, and did stay for Christmas. This has been beefed up, but not excessively, to 5.3% ABV, and it is absolutely packed with milk chocolate, smelling like a children's breakfast cereal. Although it's carbonated, the texture is nicely smooth, and the flavour offers plenty more chocolate, in a kind of a fluffy and truffle-like way, plus a bonus nuttiness which must be the pistachio but tasted more like plainer hazelnut or peanut to me. There's a parallel richness of alcohol and coffee, like the liqueur-drenched sponge of a tiramisu, as well as a floral rosewater effect and enough vanilla to bring Baileys to mind. So although the chocolate is its dominant characteristic, and lasts long into the finish, there's plenty more besides. Those who miss Porterhouse's Chocolate Truffle Stout would do well to get hold of this before it disappears. I think it's an even better beer than that one, and one of the best dessertish by-the-pint stouts I've ever had.

Staying dark but switching styles, we also got a new Munich Dunkel, and Open Gate generally knows what it's doing with dark lagers. This one is a very dark brown and was served a little too cold for comfort, but I wasn't in a rush with it. The first sip was a bit bland, but that's cold beer for you. Given a bit of time it reveals itself to be quite a modest and shy Dunkel, low on bitterness and roast. It's still pretty good though, mixing sweet milk chocolate with bitterer cocoa in a expertly balanced way, and holding back on the fizz. That allows one to appreciate a body which is beautifully full for a mere 5% ABV. One wouldn't mistake it for something served from a counter-top holzfass, but the level of smoothness makes it the nearest you'll find in Dublin on a winter afternoon. My final thought as I finished the pint was that I would be very happy to settle into another.

But there was another beer to be ticked: Espionage, a pale ale. There's a story with this one. They say that the brew didn't go according to plan, and the recipe includes squid ink, so maybe it was an attempt at a black IPA. It looks very far from that, being pale orange and mostly clear. Crispness is promised in the description and, OK, it's not flabby like Open Gate pale ales generally are, but it's more bland than crisp. There's a plain white toast base, spread with a thin layer of hop marmalade, and that's it. There's plenty of substance from its 5% ABV but it fails to do anything with it. I'm all for owning one's mistakes, but what is this for? It presents as a pale ale, but hasn't the hops to make that interesting. I'm left thinking of pale milds I've unenthusiastically chewed through in England, but they at least tend to be low strength. This is one of those beers which is unpleasant not because of how it tastes, but because of how much of my time it wastes. It passes as saleable beer, though this brewery could have discreetly disposed of it instead of putting it before the jaded and cynical drinking public, or at least this member of it. Pour one out for the utterly wasted hops.

The Christmas decorations were up when I popped in to try the Winter Cherry Ale. I don't know what makes this wintery, other than the calendar, but cherry it has, being pink and strongly fruit-flavoured. The aroma hints it might be overly syruped but there's a balancing tart zing in the foretaste, more sherbet than jam. It still doesn't taste like real cherry and has a lot in common with the more lurid sort of Belgian cherry beers, the ones where if there's any lambic component it's purely tokenistic. The bite does mean none of it hangs around, leaving a clean albeit watery finish. For 5% ABV there should have been rather more substance, but as-is, it's accessible and fun. As it's essentially a tourist attraction, not many of Open Gate's clientele have much interest in beer, and I can see this suiting that cohort nicely. It's a valid niche, and poorly served in Irish beer.

The season was fully inaugurated with the arrival of Plum Pudding Porter, apparently in its fifth year of brewing. The strength keeps going up, hitting 8.4% ABV this year. The recipe is a convoluted one, with currants, sultanas, two kinds of cherry, vanilla, mixed fruit peel, prunes, pistachio, nutmeg, star anise, cloves and allspice. I can't imagine that's all necessary, though the chocolate and cherry aroma is highly enticing. It's suitably heavy and has a good bitter kick to balance what's otherwise quite the confection. Up front it's the chocolate and cherry again, and really that's plenty by itself. The spice takes a moment to come through and is rather dry and acrid, tasting like dusty beige powder in the jar at the back of the cupboard, which tends to be nutmeg and allspice's destiny, round my place. I understand why they added it, but it doesn't really work. The end result does not taste like a Christmas pudding. It is, however, bloody lovely. The rich combination of big portery chocolate with succulent cherry is a winner and I'm really not bothered about the accuracy. Our national dearth of strong seasonal beers on draught makes this a welcome tradition.

I don't know if Open Gate will be taking its customary extended January break, but I'll be back in the new year regardless, to find out what they put on next.

No stopping the hopping

For a dead brewery, Hopfully has sure been busy. The switch back to being a client brewer has seen no let-up in the release schedule, and this past autumn has seen four new ones.

The Vase arrived in mid-September, and is badged as a "west coast pale ale". Alas, it's a very Hopfully idea of "west coast", including oats in the grist and pouring with a very definite haze, even if it's not fully opaque. The hops are Amarillo, Citra and Mosaic, and the latter is dominant in the aroma, on its best behaviour with lots of juicy cantaloupe and passionfruit. There's not much juicy about the flavour, however, and maybe that's where the west coast element comes in. The Mosaic switches to its dry, caraway seed mode and there's a spiky citric bitterness which I suspect is the Citra's doing. It was a shock after the aroma, but I settled into it quickly and found myself enjoying it. The ABV is only 4.9% and it's a little on the thin side, with a slightly excessive amount of fizz, but it's refreshing and invigorating, just as the style is meant to be. Bold hops in a small package is to be celebrated. Well played, Hopfully.

Expectations were therefore high when the next pair landed. First open was Let It Drop, a 5.2% ABV IPA. It's hopped with Citra and Ekuanot, and also uses chit malt, which I had to look up. It's a malt with higher than usual protein and starch, used to boost the body of hazy IPAs. And this beer is, of course, hazy: a bright and sunny opaque yellow. There's a juice-laden yet sharp aroma, suggesting that the Citra is in control again. No harm. Although it has a certain bite of lime in its flavour, it's predominantly sweet, with a substantial degree of vanilla next to the citrus. It's a familiar flavour profile, done in a million other mid-strength hazy IPAs, though the execution is flawless, with none of the usual off flavours I complain about. The result is clean and easy drinking, but with bags of fresh hop complexity; unfussy, but far from dull. I don't mind the lack of originality at all. Good beer is good beer.

Released alongside it was Forest. It looks similar, though is a smidge duller than the previous beer. The ABV goes up to 5.6%, Columbus and Galaxy are the hops, and of course there's more chit malt. The aroma has much less to say, giving me a sniff of savoury spring onion but little else. The first taste is shockingly bitter, and while I'm sure the hops have a lot to do with that, it also tastes dreggy: of dry plaster dust and leafy hop detritus. I did my best to look beyond this, and while there's a certain pine resin element, it's doesn't have the zing and sparkle that good American IPAs show when they go this way. Columbus is not very fashionable, but I've enjoyed its peppery dankness in the past; Galaxy ought to bring orangeade and marmalade fun. There's no fun of any kind in this harsh and acrid beast, and it's a world away from the sunshine dessert of the last one. At least I can't accuse the brewer of turning out samey beers. My diagnosis is that they attempted to go big with hop varieties that aren't really meant for that. The technical aspects of the beer are fine, but the recipe is wildly unbalanced towards raw bitterness, and that's not what anyone wants from hazy IPA, and probably any IPA for that matter.

It's not all haze 'n' hops at Hopfully, and an export stout brings up the rear: the 6.7% ABV Black Balloon. This is one of my favourite beer styles, one that sits perpetually on the periphery of the mainstream in Ireland, with Leann Folláin, Nocturne and Guinness West Indies offering that extra boost on the pint of plain in bottled form. This is slightly stronger than those 6%-ers though it looks the part, being properly black with an old-ivory head, albeit one which doesn't last terribly long. Sweet and sticky molasses start the aroma off right, telling us that the beer will be a sipper. I'm on board with that. The mouthfeel is beautifully full, providing a broad base to propel the stout flavours. That's coffee first: raw ground beans; bitter and oily. Some light chocolate and hazelnut sweetness comes behind, before a kick of green vegetal hops, for a proper, old-fashioned, grandad's stout. They may as well have packaged it with twenty Capstan and a well-worn cardigan. That's not to say it's a comfortable beer. This is serious stuff, bitter of roast and of hops and of general demeanour. The finish leaves scorchmarks of hot tar and burnt toast across the palate, and yet is clean with no excess heat. For a couple of Brazilians to rock into Ireland and make old-school stout better than most native breweries is quite an achievement. I'm very glad Hopfully is still around to do that.

It seems the price of one top-notch stout is three samey hazy pale ales. If that's the exchange rate then, frankly, I'll take it.

Hope for strength

North Dublin brewery Hope provides today's beers: two big wintery specials.

The first is plainly titled Barrel Aged Export Stout. With a nod to the history of exporting stout to the Caribbean, the barrels involved previously held Two Shores rum. It's 8% ABV and foamed busily on pouring, eventually settling to a pure black body with a tan-coloured head. There's a warming, fruity element to the aroma, which I'm guessing must be the rum, though I wouldn't have identified it as such unbidden.

Unsurprising given the froth, it's quite fizzy: a little too much for the style, I think, giving it a thin and sharp quality that doesn't suit strong stout. The rum element is present in the flavour, but subtle. I tend not to like rum-aged beers, finding the spirit cloyingly sweet, but that isn't the case here. Instead, the barrels add more of that fruitcake or Christmas pudding quality I found in the aroma, as well as a rawer oaken sappiness. None of this overrules the base beer, which is a no-nonsense, properly bitter, grown-up stout: dark toast, a molasses sweet side and then a finish of punchy spinach and green cabbage leaf. The can says it's 48 IBUs; it tastes like considerably more. This is quality stuff, and I'm always happy to find a modern stout that goes big without resorting to silliness. The fizz is its one flaw, and I found myself doing a lot of swirling to try and knock that out. It only reached an acceptable level of smoothness around the time I finished it.

From one olde-worlde English style to another. Paddy's Barleywine results from this year's National Homebrew Club championships, being a recreation of the grand prize winner's beer. It's paler than most beers of this type, rose-gold rather than deep red. The aroma is sweet and summery, conjuring ripe strawberries and glace cherries. No excessive carbonation here: the gentle sparkle suits its 8.7% ABV and the texture is heavy, carrying lots of malt sweetness. That tastes of toffee and jam to begin, turning bitterer towards the finish as the hops kick in fully. There's a good balance between the sweet and bitter sides, the candy malt offset with a tannic dryness which verges on harsh.

It's a straightforward sort of creature. I couldn't tell you what sort of hops have been deployed, but I would guess European rather than American: it doesn't have the citric oomph that the likes of Sierra Nevada's Bigfoot show, a feature which has been copied by many a European barley wine brewer. The understated nature of the flavour meant I took my time with it, allowing the sensation to unfold gradually, and enjoying the building warmth. This is another well-made and novelty-free beer, hitting the style's good points with nothing silly going on. I don't think we get enough beers like this, especially at the stronger end of the spectrum. Shame about the ropy AI-generated artwork on the label. Hope is usually more of a class act than that.

That was an enjoyable winter afternoon's drinking, and I'm glad the brewery thinks there's an audience for beers like this.

DOT of all trades

Six beers in a variety of styles from DOT today, proving that even if they don't release as many barrel-aged blends as they used to, everything doesn't have to be standard hazy IPA otherwise.

Spin Off Series Pilsner is brewed for Aldi and is described simply as "a classic easy drinking crisp lager". DOT hasn't named the brewery of origin, but if it came from Third Barrel, I trust it to hit the mark. Although it's an attractive warm gold colour, there's a certain haze to it, so isn't precision-engineered in the German or Czech way. A full 5% ABV gives it plenty of substance, feeling almost like a festbier, bock, or similar supercharged lager. The first pull gives all the malt flavours, with a subtle honey and white bread character. The aroma is freshly leafy, suggesting spinach and lamb's lettuce. This hop side manifests at the end of the flavour, bringing a spicy, peppery bitterness and a rub of acidic damp grass. It's lovely. Easy drinking, sure, but filling and satisfying too. I'm pleased also to find an Irish pilsner with enough hopping to justify the label. You won't find better lager in Aldi, and you'd have to look to the likes of Third Barrel's own Hello Yes? for an Ireland-brewed comparator. I wonder if the recipes are related.

Also for Aldi, there's Spin Off Series Brown Ale. This is a bit of a departure as, when it comes to brown ale, DOT normally can't resist adding coffee or doing something funky with Belgian yeast. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but this unadorned 5% ABV example is very welcome. In the glass it's a deep dark brown, with hints of ruby visible against the light, and a generous fine-bubbled head. A roasty aroma suggests it is drier than the ideal but the flavour pulls back on the severity, adding a milk chocolate richness which balances the dark toasted grain at its centre. I poured mine a bit cold, so that's all there was initially. With a little warmth, the chocolate takes more of a role, and there's a floral side too: a summer garden of honeysuckle and roses. While it doesn't have the flavour impact of the one Rye River does for Dunnes -- the hoppy punch there makes it a different sort of creature altogether -- as a simple take on an overlooked beer style, it's hard to find fault with it. Just be careful about the serving temperature: closer to room than fridge makes it an altogether more enjoyable experience.

The next one is a session IPA, and means it, at just 3.5% ABV. Mid Week is a hazy one: a pale yellow shade, and more or less opaque. The aroma is a mix of citrus juice and woody nutmeg spice, hinting at complexity to come. They've done a great job with the body, and it doesn't feel at all compromised by the low gravity, landing velvety smooth on the palate. With that comes a veritable bouquet of tropical fruit flavour: passionfruit and pineapple lead it out; guava and mango follow, with a growing lime and grapefruit bitterness. Only that it fades out into watery fizz rather than building to sticky sugar tells you that you aren't drinking Lilt. I don't know that I would literally have a session on this, but as a low-strength beer that's jam-packed with big hop flavour and channels the New England aspect well, it's a very welcome creation, and I hope it sticks around. 

It's quite leap from these two to Twilight, a 9% ABV bourbon-barrel-aged imperial stout. Very much the typical sort of thing from DOT. It poured dense and thick, with a fine off-white head on top. The aroma is dark chocolate and boozy liqueur, smelling very classy and luxurious. I was expecting sweet, but there's a deft pivot to drier roast in the foretaste; a tasty coffee smack, with the chocolate running to catch up. It's surprisingly unsweet, for while the chocolate does build, it never quite takes control. A crisp seam of wafer biscuit runs through it from end to end, and although the bourbon is discernible, it remains in the background, speaking softly under the stout, as it too seldom does. The result is a refined and balanced imperial stout, pulling together the correct flavour elements, but holding them in check, so it never gets too sweet or too boozy. I'm sure beers like this don't just happen, and take a lot of skill to produce. Maybe it doesn't have the complexity of a convoluted barrel-aged blend, but it's very fine drinking nonetheless.

I had been planning to wrap things up there, but then the winter seasonal range arrived, with barrel-ageing to beat the band. One in particular caught my eye: Wild Ale III, a mixed fermentation beer aged three years in former white port barrels, then given an extra three months on blueberries. Sounds like my kind of thing. It's a murky pale pink in the glass, looking like a kir. The aroma gives little away, only a nondescript berry tartness. The body is light and there's no real sourness with this one. None was promised, mind, but I wrongly assumed that it would be a central feature. Instead there's a light and cool vinous quality, conjuring real white port, and then spritzy sweet side from the real-tasting blueberries. Some floral perfume and rosewater enters the picture as it warms. It's clean and crisp, and worked well in place of a pre-dinner cocktail. Though 6.2% ABV, it tastes lighter, and there's no heavy oak of the sort that can throw something like this off balance. A little more complexity might have improved it, but as a subtly complex appetite-sharpener, it's a beaut.

Finally, another beer that's fully DOTty. You see, first there was a Cabernet Franc ice wine. Its barrels were repurposed to make single malt whiskey and, years later, re-repurposed for imperial milk stout. The result is Over A Barrel 08, the latest in a series of particularly adventurous barrel experiments conducted in conjunction with TwoSides, the beer brand of Dublin's Brickyard pub. It's more brown than black in the glass, and the aroma really shows off its convoluted heritage, with sharp oaky notes and a spirit heat. Not much sign of the lactose, mind. It is smooth-bodied, however, and I think the milk end of things contributes more to the texture than the flavour, whether or not that's by design. You can taste every bit of the 10.6% ABV, and the booze hit on the foretaste is strong enough to resemble whiskey rather than beer. Behind it, the raw oak again, and the ghost of the wine: a slightly unctuous and concentrated white grape note. Presumably there are normal milk stout features like chocolate and vanilla too, but they were buried too deep for me to taste them, which is a little unfortunate. Overall, I liked this, and I can't really complain that a 10+% ABV whiskey-aged stout was overly hot, but a bit of dark malt beeriness would have been appreciated. It left me feeling that the beer format was merely a vehicle of convenience for all the whiskey and wine characteristics.

Six beers later that's pretty good going by DOT, with some superb examples of their style, going above and beyond the basic specs. They're too wildly different for me to pick a favourite, and as a fan of pilsners, session IPAs brown ales and imperial stouts I can happily say that they all met my needs for these styles. DOT's still got it.

Sweetness and dark

The onset of winter seems to have turned their thoughts dark at Wicklow Wolf. I'm delighted by the offerings they've put forward as a result.

At Halloween, the limited edition series reached number 66, and even though we know Satan's own beer style is New England IPA, they've opted for a black IPA: 6.66% ABV and called Devil's Glen. Like many a black IPA before it, including one I made once, it suffers the cosmetic problem of being more dark brown than black. That they haven't packed it out with dark grain shows in a roast-free aroma, full of bright and juicy citrus, pulling the style's neat signature trick of smelling pale. The flavour is drier and somewhat sweet, with chocolate to the fore, plus some oily coffee bean. The hops aren't long behind, and it's juice again: freshly squeezed jaffa, and a hint of smooth vanilla, suggesting that maybe Beelzebub has had an influence on this one after all. We're back to coffee and black toast for the finish. I prefer a bit more punch in this style; more resin and vegetable than is on show here. This one is gentle and somewhat fluffy, very much pitched at the lily-livered hazebois who can't handle grown-up IBUs. You would never guess its strength from the silky texture and zesty hopping. It may be non-conformist, but I still liked it, as a black IPA and as a beer.

And as soon as the spooky decorations disappear from the shops, out come the stacks of chocolate-by-the-bucket for Christmas. Wicklow Wolf has gone one better than Heroes or Celebrations, and teamed up with Butlers Chocolates -- the high end of mainstream confectionery -- for a beer called Truffle Shuffle. I think it's possible that there are some GenXers in decision-making positions at the brewery. It's a milk chocolate stout, of course, though at the reasonable strength of 5% ABV. They claim a silky mouthfeel on the label, and it is fairly smooth, but there's more fizz than one would accept from silk. The aroma is pretty much identical to hot drinking chocolate, while the flavour is heavily influenced by residual sugar. Its chocolate effect, done with cocoa, lactose and vanilla, is powerfully sweet, and I have immediate sympathy with those continental snobs who insist that what passes for chocolate in this part of the world does not have enough cocoa to be counted as such. The actual cocoa here is a bit of an afterthought and there's a lot of sticky, custardy, toffee-like sweetness to deal with first. It will have its fans, I'm sure, but it's a deeply unserious stout, and even The Porterhouse's daft annual Chocolate Truffle Stout has more of the proper stout about it than this does. I wouldn't be rushing to drink it again, but maybe it'll be the gateway for some Butlers fans into the world of independent Irish beer.

In recent years, the brewery has had an annual cycle of seasonal beers, made with ingredients from its own farm: Locavore. However, where the autumn 2025 Locavore should have been, we got instead an extra special bitter titled Locavore Hop Harvest 2025. It looks like the pattern has been revised. Anyway, this is a dark enough shade of amber to fit the post's theme, and is topped by a terribly handsome thick layer of coarse off-white bubbles. Were it not for a slight hazing, this could pass for cask. The aroma mixes earthy Fuggle tones with light caramel. There isn't much caramel to be found in the flavour, however, with the only sweet element arriving late in the finish. Instead, it's raspingly dry, packed with rough tannins and a twiggy, vegetal bitterness. It fits the style specs closely enough, if somewhat light-bodied for 5.6% ABV, but it's missing a richness and roundness that I think would help improve its drinkability. My feeling is that this is for ESB purists only (I know you're out there) and it was just a grade or two too harsh for me.

A big-ass barley wine to finish. The Still Hand has been barrel-aged with ex-Oloroso whiskey barrels from the brewery's neighbours, Glendalough Distillery. It's 13.1% ABV and a very dark red-brown, almost black. It frothed busily on pouring, settling back to just a skim of foam after a minute. The aroma is loose on specifics but indicates clearly that whiskey barrels were involved in the beer's production, with a warmly boozy waft giving hints of cherry and raisin. The flavour is quite wine-like, though more port than sherry, with a chocolate sweetness at the centre, and dark fruit -- add some fig and prune to the raisin and cherry -- around the edges. For all the initial foam, the carbonation is low, struggling to make itself felt beneath the malt weight. A sticky liquorice bitterness is the hops' token contribution. There's a burn on the finish which is the whiskey again, and a consequent warmth grows in one's innards after swallowing. This is seriously wintery stuff and ideal for cockle-warming on a cold day. I thought at first that the strength was excessive, but it makes very good use of it, and I don't think it would have quite the same multidimensional flavour otherwise. The gold lettering on the can implies luxury, and the beer inside delivers fully on that. My branded pint glass felt a little disrespectful: this is a beer for your best stemware.

One too sweet, one too bitter, but two that were just right (if not perfect). Wicklow Wolf is heading to the end of a very good year of beer releases, as regards both variety and quality. Don't leave us hanging on the winter Locavore, though. We're owed.