Old man beer

Ask any brewer why they don't make more beer in the dark and delicious styles and they'll tell you it's because they don't sell, at least not the way IPAs do. It's a scandal and a disgrace and the drinking public should be ashamed of ourselves. Today, I've picked a selection of beers that have come my way recently, all in styles that there should be more of. 

Things had been very quiet up at Four Provinces so it was wonderful to see them advertising a new beer, and a stout, no less: Dublin Dubh. I was straight round to the pub in Kimmage for a go. It's a very mainstream 4.2% ABV and served on nitro, though in just a single pour, because why not? The flavour is more on the chocolate side than dry roast, which suits me. The roast isn't left out, however, and manifests pleasantly in the aroma. This is a very decent pint of plain and a cut above how the industrial brewers do it, except... I got a slight chlorophenolic twang, lurking at the heart of the flavour; an echo of Laphroaig whisky which doesn't ruin the experience, but I don't think it's meant to be there and it would be remiss of me not to mention it. Here's hoping that'll get fixed in the next batch and this beer will stick around.

As the brewery notes on the can, there has already been an American-style brown ale in Kinnegar's numbered limited edition series, although it was 19, not 18 as the text claims. For Brewers At Play 43 they've ramped up the strength a little, to 6.2% ABV. This one is on the reddish side of brown, and topped with a densely thick head of beige foam. It smells a little piney, though not in a good way, with overtones of floor cleaner or urinal cake. The flavour is simpler and, it has to be said, much less hop-forward. It's centred on very classical brown ale flavours, of latte coffee, milk chocolate and soft caramel. They're set on a beautifully smooth base -- I complained that the last one was a bit thin, but they've resolutely solved that issue, and without adding any unwelcome alcohol heat. Instead of pine or citrus, the hopping manifests as a raisin and rosewater sweet side, so while it says it's "big hoppy" on the tin, it's more that it's balanced and nuanced, which probably wouldn't sell as well, but it should. In summary, this is a lovely beer, hitting the sweet spot of being flavourful but also immensely easy and satisfying to drink, and it expertly hits the points that brown ale is supposed to, so will please everyone else who wants to see more of them around.

Also revisiting old recipes is Outer Place, who released an export India porter called Deepspace Transmission a bit over a year ago. That has been revived as Deepspace Transmission 2 and given a little ABV boost to 6.5%. Again, I appear to have complained that the original was thin, and again the brewery seems to have fixed this. It glooped flatly into the glass, and I thought I wasn't getting a head until one suddenly arose from the depths, nitro style, when the glass was nearly full. The extra heft is borne out in the properly creamy mouthfeel, low on carbonation but still lively. The hops are quiet in the aroma, which is all espresso and hot tar. The flavour is punchily bitter, and there's a certain grapefruit quality to this, but it's mostly the charred roast from its dark grains, with a real old-fashioned herbal liquorice kick. I mentioned that the 2023 version had more than a touch of black IPA about it, and this does glance in that direction too, but in a positive way. As a black IPA fan, I'm happy to find the style's attributes in a porter, but this is still a porter: putting the malt first, with hops as an enjoyable optional extra. All told, it's good stuff, pulling the same interesting-yet-drinkable move as the Kinnegar one. 

With contemporary takes on old-timey beer styles, it was inevitable that someone would try throwing in non-standard ingredients, and of course today it's Lough Gill. They've done a 4% ABV porter, which is all rare and wonderful, but decided it needed cocoa adding, to create Atlantic Cocoa. It doesn't smell of chocolate, mind, being sharply herbal, with oily rosemary meeting a stern burnt-toast bitterness. The texture is thin and fizzy, and there's a slightly sour edge, giving it the feel of bottled Guinness, which is not what I expected. I searched hard for the headline cocoa, and I think it's present in the finish: a sort of desultory rub of dark chocolate around the palate, but it's definitely not central to the picture. The thinness and sharpness makes it taste, to me, like a homebrew gone wrong: not infected, but definitely not done right. That's a surprise from Lough Gill, which normally does dark and chocolatey beers very well without problem. I am as confused as I am disappointed. Anyway, I don't recommend this one. There will be some bereft pastry stout fans in its wake.

Finally, at a pre-Christmas beer geeks meet-up in UnderDog, a bottle of Kernel's Victorian Mild was shared around. Kernel almost never disappoints when it comes to dark beer, but I didn't care for this. It's incredibly dry and quite acrid, with opening flavours of peanut shell and cotton. That's followed by an unwelcome rush of alcohol heat, despite the beer being only 5.7% ABV. The dryness takes a turn towards roastiness, but overdoes it, resulting in an ashen quality to the middle flavour, and then to top it off, an unpleasant vinegary acidity. It left me with a feeling I often get from beers which are recreations of historical recipes: olden days beer wasn't very nice to drink. This one certainly wasn't.

So, just because a beer is dark and in a hallowed style doesn't mean it will be enjoyable. My point really is about variety and choice. I'll happily accept the occasional vinegary clunker as the price of that.