Industrial microbrewing

They've fairly been cranking the beers out at Diageo's tourist-focussed 10 hectolitre microbrewery in the St James's Gate complex, and I've been quite a regular visitor in recent months, though almost always the sole local customer. I don't mind. I like the cosmopolitan buzz the place has, and the overheard conversations from people who aren't beer enthusiasts, but have come to Guinness because it's one of the things you do in Dublin.

Now, ya boy loves a sour IPA and makes no secret of it, so a new one at Open Gate had me straight up there to try it out. The recent project to give their beers interesting local names seems to have been discarded, as they've called this one Sour IPA. It's the slightly hazy spun gold that I expect of the style but smells bizarrely sweet, of luridly-hued sugared gummies, suggesting ersatz lime, raspberry and cola. I wanted crispness but feared sticky sugar. The fake-fruit thing remains in the flavour, turning to a clearer, more one-dimensional strawberry jelly. Thankfully, the texture is sufficiently light so it's not cloying, but it is weird, and overly sweet, and not at all sour. What gives? How did they do it? Why did they do it? As usual, no further information is forthcoming. A strange beast indeed, and not in a good way, leaving me feel baited and switched in my continuing quest for sour IPA.

Diageo also recently... hosted? sponsored? ...an event called Lovely Days, which necessitated a Lovely Haze IPA. It's the medium-hazy, slightly translucent sort, and very much session strength at 4.2% ABV. The aroma is outrageously peachy, with some extra-sticky passionfruit vapours too. If that's all hops and malt, it's impressive. Unsurprisingly, that continues in the flavour. The internet suggests it's done entirely with Cashmere hops, and who am I to argue with that? Regardless, it's much brighter and bolder than Open Gate's IPAs tend to be, piling in the unctuous and jammy sweet apricot notes, finishing on a bittersweet kick of mandarin peel and lime shred marmalade. It doesn't feel session strength, being dense and chewy, and here I'll note that while the point-of-sale material listed it as 4.2% ABV, whoever does the online menu reckons it's 5.7%. On sensory grounds alone, I would side with the higher figure. But, again, there's no way to be sure. Regardless, it's an enjoyable beer and I fervently hope that their future IPAs will project a similar degree of hop intensity.

They've decided, quite rightly, that summer calls for dark styles too, and dropped a Summer Porter in early July. They've done this kind of thing before -- a porter with strawberries -- back in 2022. This time they've lowered the ABV to 4% from 5%, and they were serving it carbonated rather than nitrogenated. As such, it's a light and fizzy affair. While it finishes on a dry note of toasted grain, prior to this it's on the sweet side, with a degree of sticky tackiness on display. Maybe the strawberry had something to do with that, although there was very little strawberry in evidence, only a vague pink sweetness in the middle which could have been any summer fruit. In its favour, there was also a kind of Baltic-porter-like liquorice, adding a more serious heft, so anyone expecting a light and sunny beer won't find it here. I enjoyed my pint of it -- a draught carbonated black beer is a rarity to be cherished. They can make them all year round, as far as I'm concerned.

Back on the events roster, the Liberties Festival also happened, and was graced by a special Open Gate Beer. It's called Batch Bread Red, from which I assumed it's part of the trend of breweries using spent bread in their grist as an anti-food-waste virtue signal, but there's nothing in the accompanying marketing material to say it is. Regardless, I was expecting conventional, and it isn't. For one thing, it's nitrogenated, which is normally a disaster for bitters and red ales, turning them gloopy and cloying. It didn't here because the beer is loaded with hops. The variety has not been disclosed, but it adds a powerful lemon flavour, concentrated into limoncello or some heavily citric bath product. The texture makes it feel dessertish, adding an ice-cream creaminess. A bite of bitter perfume finishes it with a little balance. Mostly, though, this is one of those one-dimensional beers with a beautiful single dimension. It's not at all to-style for a red ale, and the description mentioning that brown malt and honey were ingredients is entirely moot. I nearly didn't order it because, meh, red ale. Once again, however, the need to tick every beer I see has saved the day.

It's always good to see a new lager on the roster, and the latest is a Vienna -- even better. The name, Mr Brew-niverse, not so great. That's really my only criticism, however. They've gone on the pale side, like highly polished copper, resisting the urge to pile in dark caramel or melanoidins, to make it more Vienna-ish. This example has just enough sweetness, mostly confined to the finish, so is only slightly cake-like. It's more like bread, really: perhaps a rich treacly brown, with a crisp roasted bite for the crust. Properly noble hops form the centrepiece, bringing fresh grass to begin, then a slightly more assertive bitterness, suggesting spinach or fresh green cabbage. While it's cleanly fizzy, it's not excessively so, hitting the sweet spot of being interesting while also quaffable. At Open Gate I'm a sipper and a sampler and a scribbler. This beer could have me coming to just sit outside and drink.

And bringing us up to date (ish), another murky pale ale, this one called Hazy Old Town, because the brewer responsible is from Salford. I tried it during the recent heatwave, and gave it immediate bonus points for the ice cold serving temperature: the first third of my half was just to cool me down. It didn't develop much of an aroma at any point, but the hop flavour arrives fresh and leafy, with a sizeable amount of citric bitterness. That's short-lived, unfortunately, and it reverts readily to familiar garlic and vanilla. Not too much of them, thankfully, as it's only 4.3% ABV and maintains a lightness of touch. It's fine and, as with the one covered above, is an improvement on Open Gate's general track record with pale ale and haze. It seems they've cracked it, and better late than never.

The next one has a bit of an identity crisis, being a Pink Gin Ale, made with Champagne yeast. Three drinks in one? I reckon I can handle that. It's pink all right; actually properly rosé: clear and transparent at the edges. The aroma is a sherbet-like cherry and raspberry effect, better suited to a sweetshop than a fancy bar. The description mentions the gin botanicals but nothing about berries, so that's confusing. The base is light and crisp, more so than you'd expect from the 5.7% ABV, meaning the yeast has fermented everything thoroughly. The syrupy beer remains as the unsubtle centrepiece of the flavour, however. You need to go on a bit of a sensory quest to discern the botanicals, but there is a certain herbal spice at the back of one's throat, saying juniper in particular, but also leafy green coriander. A dry finish is advertised and delivered. It's the pinkness which lets this recipe down, dominating what was likely an otherwise complex and interesting base beer. Special props to the Champagne yeast: it would have been a sticky mess without that.

Last up is The Golden Age of Guinness: a grandly titled alleged recreation of a recipe from the 1880s, and as long as you have no further questions, that's exactly what it is. They've designated it as an export stout and it's only 5% ABV, a combo move to make any proper beer historian's knuckles turn white. It's fizzy and chilled, just like it wouldn't have been back in the day, and while it's fairly similar to standard carbonated Guinness, it does have an extra richness -- cocoa, espresso, a hint of smoke? -- and less of the sour lactic tang. Still, the taste wasn't bold enough to clean the residual raspberry from the previous beer off my palate. Nevertheless, my only real criticism is that, for a full-flavoured stout, it's still a bit thin. I would like this bigger flavour on the beefier body of an actual 19th century stout. It was the strongest beer on the taplist on the day, so there was room to do that. Stouts have never been Open Gate's best offerings, and while this doesn't really provide any time-machine thrill, it's decent drinking.

Decent drinking is all I ask from the brewery. I see there's a Märzen on the coming-soon list. Happy autumn!