Gastro brewing

Word on the street was that the small-batch beer line-up at Open Gate Brewery had changed somewhat since my last visit, so back I went, early doors on a sunny Saturday afternoon. In the event, it turned out I'd missed the recent SMASH XPA, but there were still three new tasting opportunities for me, enough to fill out one of their €11 paddles.

In the middle of the board is the most intriguing of the set, Escar Gose, the on-the-nose name making it clear that this is a gose with actual snails. My beer-specialist servers weren't completely clear at first how that was done but eventually agreed with each other that the gastropods were added to the mash. ("Gose is normally brewed with seafood but our brewers used snails.") I tried not to roll my eyestalks too visibly. Anyway, it's a hefty 6% ABV and the requisite pale and hazy yellow. The extra gravity gives it a honey sweetness that's not very gose-like, though there's a saline tang as well, and a spritzy fizz. It's still too heavy to be refreshing however, and there's no proper sourness. And of course, it doesn't taste like snail because snails don't taste of much. Maybe some garlic or parsley in the boil would have given it a more interesting character. Still, in a world where novelty beer is all too common, this one is top-tier gimmickry. Shame it's not more enjoyable to drink.

Next, on the left, is the one I had been particularly looking forward to: New Zealand Lager. Did they deliberately decide not to call it a pilsner? It looks identical to the gose, and while there's a certain grassiness in the aroma, it's not very full-on. A taste reveals, perhaps, why they didn't go with "pilsner": this is another weighty one, all of 5.5% ABV. That means it's malt more than hops which stands out initially, soft and cerealish. The hops aren't punchy but sweetly herbal, like basil or sage. They're pretty low-impact, however, fading quickly and not contributing much to the beer's whole deal. Listen, if you put "New Zealand" in the name of your beer, I want to be tasting Marlborough all the way through. This is fine, clean enough to qualify as good, but not the high-end lager that I know Open Gate is capable of. Actually, it's been a while since I last found one of those. Perhaps I should be concerned. 

On the right-hand side, the least blonde of the set, is Strong Blonde. Are they going for Leffe here? The 6.6% ABV matches that Belgian, er, classic. If the other two were sweet, the aroma here raises the game significantly, with an intense boiled-sweet effect. Thankfully it's calmer on tasting, and not at all Belgian. I'm reminded more of English golden ale, with the marmalade flavours of Kentish hops (or hops of Kent) set on a clean malt base with golden syrup and light caramel. For something strong and sweet it does an amazing job of avoiding heat, sickliness or stickiness. You get a satisfying summer warmer (that should be more of a thing in this climate) which is chewy, fruity, but perfectly drinkable too. I really didn't expect this to be the stand-out, but that's the joy of random paddles at the experimental Guinness bar.

A couple of weeks later I was back for more, finding two further additions. The thoroughly uninspiring Session Pale Ale is 4% ABV and a clear pale amber. The menu promises grapefruit and peach but I struggled to find either. Its aroma is very slightly citric but sweet too, like the least-assertive bathbomb in Lush. A soft texture and low fizz do mean that it's easy drinking; not quite on New England territory but looking in that direction. The flavour is thoroughly lacklustre: barely-there chew sweets and orange sherbet dust make up the full extent of it. I got a faint sharp pinch in the finish which I would love to say is bitterness but it's not really, and certainly nothing like grapefruit. It all feels like a technical exercise. Clearly they've interpreted "session" as bland. That's not the idea, guys.

Beside it is Open Gate Baltic Porter, the second one they've brewed by my reckoning, though this one is lighter than the 2019 vintage, at 6% ABV, rather than 6.8%. It's a little pale and reddish, though there's nothing dilute about its big roasty, toasty aroma: thank you, carbon dioxide. The flavour opens on chocolate biscuits, all crunchy and wholesome, yet not particularly sweet. There's no creaminess in this porter, which is entirely appropriate -- all is lager-clean. I got lucky that there were some brewers in the house when I asked what the yeast was, so my server was able to tell me it's Lallemand's Diamond Lager, and for once I believe what I'm told at that bar. I thought they might have skimped on the hops, but after a minute I found a sneaky seam of liquorice which adds just enough bittering. As Baltic porters go, this is a study in cromulence. It meets the requirements of the style with some bonus coffee and cola, but doesn’t really add any distinctive features beyond that. And that's OK. A polite round of applause from me and lager redemption for Open Gate.

Until the next flip of the board, then.