No sudden movements

A flurry of activity from the Whiplash brewery resulted in today's offerings.

Having already done a beer for burger chain Bunsen, they're continuing to be down-with-the-kids, at least where meat sandwiches are concerned, with one for Chimac, the Korean-style chicken place. It's a rice lager named Rise. Unusually for a restaurant beer it comes in a 440ml can, but as it's a 4.5% ABV golden lager, that's about the minimum recommended dosage. It's pale and mostly clear in the glass, with little aroma other than fizzy water and a touch of grain. I became concerned that this is one of those microbrewed beers designed to mimic industrially-produced ones. Served ice cold it was very refreshing; light-bodied without being thin, and I can see how good a match it would be for fiery fried chicken. By itself, there's not a whole lot going on. There's a faint Helles sweet side from the malt base, but that's barely noticeable until the beer has warmed up in a way it's not supposed to. I thought it would be crisper because of the rice, so the mild fruitiness was a surprise. And of course, no hop character to speak of is discernible. I'm not sure there was a whole lot of point releasing this for consumption outside of the context for which it was designed. It's fine, and the brewery is entitled to make what it wants, but there are imports hitting these beats at considerably more competitive prices. This does nothing to premiumise itself.

I had to go to Fidelity to get Cold Facts, a New Zealand hopped pilsner which seems, so far, to be draught-only. The chiller console tells me they serve this at 5°C but it seemed colder on the nippy April evening I drank it. That seemed to have cut the flavour down a notch or two, which is a shame because there's plenty to enjoy here. Both aroma and flavour are centred on a balanced sampler of lovely Kiwi goodness, incorporating sharp botanicals, luscious tropical fruit and a harder mineral edge on the finish. It's exactly the sort of experience for which one comes to New Zealand's hops, and I wanted more of all of it. Maybe it's not possible to maintain the beautiful balance while also ramping up the hops but I'd be willing to take that chance. A word of praise also for the mouthfeel. For a modest 4.5%-er it has a gorgeous soft and pillowy texture; properly carbonated but not so much that the fizz upsets the delicate flavour. It's very easy to drink, so while I would like to report on how the hop character fared when it was a bit warmer, I had already emptied the glass. Oh well.

Pale ales are more Whiplash's milieu, and that's where we stay for the next two. Sailing Shoes gets immediate points for the daftly literal can artwork. "West coast" pale ale, they say and, like the lager above, it's mostly clear, and a pale yellow shade, so crystal malt is not part of this interpretation. In fact, we're helpfully told it's a mix of Marris Otter, Vienna and Caramalt, hopped with Vic Secret, Amarillo and Chinook, so potentially lots going on there. It's Amarillo's orange candy that I get primarily from the aroma, though a little of Vic Secret's aniseed spicing features as well. Again, there's a pleasingly weighty mouthfeel despite a modest ABV of 4.8%. In the flavour, the hops are all smushed together, with a general orangey tang being expressed, but nothing more nuanced than that. OK, maybe a little background sharpness to balance the sweet citrus, but nothing significant. This is another straight-up drinkin' beer, not trying to do anything fancy and presenting as approachable, easy-going and fun. I'm fine with that. I don't know that telling us to expect "West Coast" was worthwhile, but then since Whiplash are the worst offenders when it comes to no-warning murk in their pale ales, it may serve to shift a few cans to the haze-dodgers. It's cute that the brewery has decided to look after them for once. A broad thumbs up for Sailing Shoes from me.

Going Through Some Stuff is an example of the issue, labelled simply as an IPA but looking like custard with a head once poured. It's Nelson Sauvin and Vic Secret for the antipodean vibe, with a bit of Citra for American balance. The aroma is juicy first, hinting at mineral diesel, suggesting that the Nelson is making its presence felt. The haze is a little too present in the flavour, adding a plasterboard alkalinity which interferes with the proper beer side. Underneath, there's Vic Secret's pinching aniseed, a subtle squirt of Citra lime and, maybe, if I'm not imagining it, some squishy white grape from the Nelson. None of it is very loud or pronounced, and I think that at 6.8% ABV, something should be. It's hardly surprising that a man of my age thinks this beer would be better if it were cleared up. It's a decent hazy IPA, but the well-chosen hop combination would shine better on a clean base. I'm sure that's possible, even if it's not fashionable.

Another brief flurry before I got the above notes published consisted of a matching pair of IPAs. The single one is called Sure Look and seems to have quite a fruit-forward hop list, featuring El Dorado and Azacca. It's a very pale yellow, looking a bit thin, even though it's a full-fat 6.8% ABV. Credit where its due on the lasting fluffy head, something too rare in hazy IPAs for some reason. The aroma is broad-spectrum tropical, as I suspected it would be, but the flavour is rather less sweet. At the front it's very estery, with a slightly chemical pear-essence vibe. That rounds out to jaffa orange and lemon zest after a moment; a reminder that Citra is also here and didn't come to play. But there's also a nasty touch of savoury grit, and an annoyingly quick finish. It's a lot like the beer above, in fact, only with less fun hops. The aroma is the best feature, though doesn't quite make up for its other shortcomings. 

I suppose the route-one move would be for the double IPA companion, Sure Listen, to be made with the same hops, but it's not. Citra and El Dorado are back, joined by Amarillo. Still, it looks almost the same, only a little darker than the last one, though a deal stronger at 8.2% ABV. The aroma is densely sweet, of overripe stonefruit and undiluted squash. It's as thick as it smells and needs a strong drag to get it out of the glass. Once again, the flavour intensity is a degree or two lower than the aroma. I got a hint of coconut oil, a light bitterness no more assertive than peach skin, and a thin smear of apricot jam. But again, you don't get long to explore this. It doesn't have the nasty gritty side; replaced by an alcoholic warmth that's much more cosy. Again, though, it doesn't deliver the bam-pow fun that I know Whiplash can do.

This is all fairly typical Whiplash fare, with no real surprises. I didn't need confirmation that my personal taste runs much more to Kiwi-hopped lagers than hazy IPAs, but here it is anyway.