Absolute slop

I'll spare you my usual rant about the bad AI-generated artwork on Third Barrel's cans. Suffice it to say, they're still at it, and it still looks cheap and terrible. I had built up quite a collection of their beers late last year, through no particular reason, and got to work on them last month.

Sitting in the fridge since the summer was Short Circuit, an all-Citra IPA of 6.2% ABV. They've used various formats of the iconic American hop, including cryo, Spectrum and plain old-fashioned T90 pellets like our grandaddies used to use. They don't tell us anywhere on the can that it's hazy, but it is: oats in the ingredients is your nod-wink signal, I guess. The aroma is a little on the oily, savoury side of Citra's lime character: it's certainly no custardy haze job, even if it's very definitely not West Coast style. There's a pleasant bitter punch at the front of the foretaste, and maybe that's why they haven't said it's hazy, because it's definitely not in the New England fashion. The flavour is centred on bitter citrus pith, with a twist of white pepper. That said, it's not sharp or harsh, and does have a certain soft side; a pale cherry-slice cakeishness. This is pretty damn decent in the reliable, enjoyable, and most of all sessionable way that Third Barrel does beers. I only had one can, but I could see this working very well as a super-charged pinter. Careful now.

A month younger, but broadly along the same lines, is early autumn's Green Light Mode, a lightly hazy IPA of 6% ABV and hopped with Hallertau Blanc, Simcoe and Cryo Pop. The aroma is on the savoury side, mixing dry grain husks with raw spinach and celery: Hallertau Blanc tends not to come across as typically German, but I think that's what it's doing here. In the flavour, that gets concentrated to a dry and crisp sesame seed or caraway effect, something I associate most with Mosaic, and do not care for. The haze gives it a pillowy soft texture, which rounds out some of the edges, and there's a seam of sweetish vanilla too, but it's really missing any proper fruit side, and zingy citrus in particular. What bitterness there is is metallic and aspirin-like. This didn't work for me, being all too serious and devoid of the fun side of hopping that Third Barrel usually does so well (see above).

Bringing us right up to date, an IPA canned in late November, called Bothered. Again, it's not labelled as hazy but it very much is; 7% ABV and hopped with Idaho 7 and Strata, two of the brewery's favourites, I think. I expected it to smell more sweetly fruity and juicy — that's what I associate with Strata in particular — but instead the aroma is quite serious: a thick and oily layer of resins shot through with sparks of onion-like spicing. It gets more orangey on tasting, but not really very sweet, showing a pithy tartness and herbal notes of spearmint and thyme. The label says to expect tangerine and grapefruit, which I sort-of get, but also passionfruit, which I definitely don't. And even though it's opaque, there's no interference from the murk; no grittiness or vanilla, and that's always very welcome. The other principal attribute, aside from the hop goings-on, is a rounded warmth, making good use of the high-ish alcohol to create something that's very satisfying when you're only having the one beer. All told, this is very decent stuff.

Brickyard in Dundrum is now the sole proprietor of the TwoSides beer brand, but is still turning out the product via Third Barrel. The latest in its sequence of pale ales is Two Yards: All Citra, and sure why not? As usual, it's a light 4.3% ABV — brewed with pints in mind — and full-on hazy. One might have expected the aroma to be citrussy, but this is all resin, pine and weed, with almost a burn going on, despite the minimal alcohol. I found the foretaste a little off-putting, giving a dry and rasping acridity, like peanut shells or pencil shavings. The citrus takes over very quickly, thankfully, and delivers hard and bitter lime pith with an edge of fried onion and a pinch more of the pine from the aroma. Despite the strength, this is serious stuff, and I'm not sure it is very well suited to pint drinking. Though hazy, there's none of the balancing softer or sweeter sides to counteract the Citra's punch. I'm sure there are those who appreciate it at the level it's intended; it was just a little too aggressive for me, lacking nuance, as single-hopped beers often do. I can't say the front of the can didn't warn me.

TwoSides gets back on the collaboration bandwagon with Bitter Sweet Symphony, an IPA produced with another pub-owned Third-Barrel-brewed beer brand, Hopsicle of Cork. They don't tell us much about it on the can, only that 5.2% ABV is the strength. It's pale yellow and very slightly cloudy, with more of the gritty savouriness from the last one in its aroma. There's a similar sort of pithy bitterness too, but it's altogether less intense, and does show a sweeter side, slightly: a little candied orange peel or Seville marmalade. A proper tang finishes it off on a note reminiscent of English bitter. A symphony this is not. Like English bitter, it's a more subtle affair, wearing its complexity lightly. I expected something more dramatic, but what I got is calm and classy. Though the hops are all-American (Citra, Cascade, Mosaic), there's a restraint in what they're doing here: punching playfully at first, then fading to a dignified silence after the beer is swallowed. For me, this is a beer more to respect than to enjoy. I think I'm entitled to expect a bit more drama from a collaboration IPA with lots of American hops on board. I suspect that the pubs in charge have reined them in, to give it more mainstream appeal.

It's hard to believe, but not everything Third Barrel brews is a hazy pale ale. The two token offerings in other styles is where we'll finish this lot, beginning on a Czech-style pale lager called Hello Yes. This is a prize-winning homebrew recipe, although isn't quality in pilsner more about the process than the recipe? I'm possibly out of my depth with that. Anyway, this is výčepní-strength at 4.1% ABV, a flawless dark golden colour and smells of all the honey and fresh-cut grass that anyone could want. The carbonation is assertive — more so than is to my taste, but for this style it gets a pass. I'm amazed that there's no compromise with the mouthfeel, and it's as rounded and rich as a significantly stronger beer. Likewise the flavour has depth and complexity far beyond my expectations. Classically Czech golden syrup meets peppery rocket in the foretaste, followed by a kick of bitter spinach, before finishing perfectly cleanly with no aftertaste nor trace of fruitiness. I have no further notes. This is absolutely bang on, and reminds me how rare top-notch pale lager is in Ireland. If it's something you've been hankering after, don't miss this one.

"A hefty dose of Centennial" is the promise that comes with Texture Like Sun, a brown ale. It's only barely brown, mind, looking quite red to me. There's no more than a hint of hop fruit in the aroma, mixed with dark malt's chocolate and coffee, suggesting a raisin-studded candy bar. The flavour adds a tannic bite and accentuates the coffee roast, ensuring the sweet side doesn't get everything its own way. The hops are very visible as well, with quite a stereotypical American grapefruit bite on top of all the malt. Though 5.5% ABV, it's not particularly heavy, and that further helps with the balance. There's lots of fun on offer here, whether that be from the west-coast hopping or the ramped-up traditional brown ale features. The two sides work very well together, and both are assertively present, given a perfect clean base to work from. Too often microbrewed brown ales, where they exist, end up murky, gritty and difficult. This example, however, delivers all the good stuff in discreet packages with no interference, and is highly enjoyable as a result.

The conclusion from all this lot? Third Barrel should brew more varied styles, and especially more lager.